


Something Blue

by southsidesister



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23965675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southsidesister/pseuds/southsidesister
Summary: When Donna returns from her vacation with Thomas, Harvey receives a bombshell that turns his world upside down. Alternative ending to 8x16 with events of season 9 thrown in. Angsty as always.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter, Thomas Kessler/Donna Paulsen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

···

**Something Blue**

_Part 1_

°•.•°

"Thomas. I've been looking for you. We were supposed to meet in the conference room ten minutes ago," Harvey declared from the doorjamb of Louis' office, trying to keep his annoyance in check.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll be right there. But Harvey? I thought I was meeting Alex?"

"Yeah, he had a family emergency and asked me to fill in."

Harvey turned around and walked away, only catching the tail-end of Kessler's animated conversation with Louis and wondering what the hell it could be about that the always punctual Thomas Kessler was late to his own meeting.

A few minutes later, Thomas breezed into Conference Room C and it was clear there was something off about him. The man seemed lighter. _Happy_. Unlike the mood Harvey was nourishing, because he was already running late for his next appointment due to his current client's tardiness and the shitload of work waiting for him in his office. His attitude certainly had nothing to do with the fact Donna had been on vacation for the past two weeks— _with Kessler—_ and was still nowhere to be seen even though she was supposed to come in this morning.

"Great. You're here," he uttered, unable to suppress the sarcasm bleeding from the statement as Thomas unbuttoned his suit jacket and took a seat opposite him. "We need to discuss the—" For whatever reason, Harvey glanced at how Kessler interlocked his fingers and the man might as well have swung a baseball bat straight into his chest, because the wind was knocked out of him and all blood drained from his face. From one second to the next, his ability for speech left him with his reason for living. As his heart slammed in his ribcage, Harvey struggled to breathe while simultaneously trying to hide his reaction. "Did you, eh…" He cleared his throat. "You get married?" he asked, keeping his gaze on the manila folder between them, steeling himself for the answer that would surely tear him apart.

In an effort to contain his own joy, Thomas tried to suppress the smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. From what Donna had told him, he'd gathered telling Harvey about their nuptials was a big deal, but she wasn't here, and he was. Discomfort quickly filled the air around them and even though his lips remained tight, he knew he couldn't keep his bliss from reaching his eyes. "Ehm, yeah. Yeah, we did."

The ground under Harvey's feet vanished, while his heart was ripped out of his chest. "Well, I guess—" _Dammit._ His throat was cotton dry and why was it so hard to articulate a goddamn normal reply? "—congratulations are in order." Closing his eyes, he shook his head slightly, trying to rearrange his thoughts and failing miserably because all that registered was how he'd forever lost the one person who meant the most to him.

If he ever carried any hope for him and Donna to be together, the piece of gold metal laughing in his face was the final nail in that coffin.

"Listen, I think it's best you meet with Alex yourself." Before he could catch himself, Harvey stood up and stammered, "I have eh… another meeting. So, let's reschedule. I'll have Alex' secretary contact you. Excuse me."

Before Thomas could answer, Harvey left the conference room, fidgeting with the tie cutting off his circulation.

* * *

_"Aloha!" she greeted a couple walking towards them on the beach as she lifted her skirt to keep the water from hitting the fabric, feeling the fingers entwined with her own give her a small squeeze and she looked up to meet Thomas' enthralling gaze, complete adoration shining in his light green eyes._

_The sun was about to set, and the twilight gave his eyes an iridescent glow she could get lost in._

_Donna was in love. And being half a world away seemed to intensify the feeling a thousand-fold, because Thomas was perfect in every way imaginable. Besides the obvious godlike physique, in the time they had been together she had learned he challenged her, urged her to talk about the darker aspects of her character—and his own—examining the struggles and joys of life while never backing down from a good argument. Doing it all whilst making her laugh._

_He embodied everything she valued in a person and she counted her lucky stars she had walked into his life._

_Only a week into their vacation, yet the feeling this could be something permanent,_ they _could be something permanent, grew stronger by the day and for once Donna's instinct shouting at her to be cautious barely registered as a whisper._

_As they strolled along the beach, they came upon a wedding in session. Donna felt Thomas' grip on her hand tighten, before he stopped and moved behind her, wrapping her in strong arms to watch the ceremony up ahead. He nuzzled her neck, swaying them gently to the rhythm of the waves crashing onto shore._

_"That could be us, you know," he mumbled._

_Momentarily stunned, Donna searched for a reason to deny his statement and came up empty. Although they had only been dating for a few months, marriage was definitely where they were headed if things continued developing as they had._

_However, he was the first man she ever even considered such a commitment with and she hesitated, grateful he knew better than to push her. Still, these kinds of suggestions plus him being open about his feelings for her were exactly the reason she admired him and she heard herself say, "I'd like that, Thomas."_

_Donna felt him hold his breath for the briefest of moments._

_"Why don't we do it?" he whispered._

_Bemused, she turned in his embrace, her heart stuck in her throat. "What are you saying?" He couldn't possibly—_

_"I'm saying that I am madly in love with you. Being with you feels_ right _. Why should we waste more time? I don't need a big, extravagant wedding. We'll throw a party for our friends when we get back. All I want is you. Forever."_

_His elegant eyes shone brighter than before, his hard features soft in the sunset._

_Turning over her thoughts to find an excuse, she once again drew a blank. Why wouldn't she marry him? Here was this gorgeous man who was crazy about her, and who she was in love with, asking her to elope with him. She wasn't getting any younger. There was still time to have a family. He was perfect and everything she wished Harv—_

_She halted her train of thought, unwilling to go down that rabbit hole while at the same time gripping a reignited desire to cut the past loose once and for all._

_Donna took his face between her palms and brought his lips down to meet hers. "Let's do it."_

* * *

The cool inside of the car provided a welcome relief from the suffocating heatwave that had captured New York in a late summer death grip.

Checking her phone, Donna read through some emails, trying to catch up before returning to work the following day. The sun had already started its descent and she was only thirty minutes out of town, something Gary, Louis' driver, had informed her of a minute ago.

When she and Thomas had landed at JFK yesterday evening, Donna's mother had called in a frenzy, explaining how she'd had to take her husband to the ER because Jim had suffered shortness of breath after dinner. Thankfully, the doctors had believed the symptoms to be caused by an allergic reaction, even though Clara had clearly been rattled by the ordeal. Since there was no immediate danger, Donna had told her mom she would come by the next day, figuring one more day off wouldn't be so bad. More importantly, the trip to Connecticut would give her the opportunity to share the news with her parents in person.

Grabbing the bull by the horns, she had called Louis and explained everything. Not only had he been thrilled for the newlyweds, he had given her the extra day and had gracefully offered her his driver since he would be stuck in meetings from morning to night.

Donna slumped into her seat. The jetlag was kicking in after a short night's sleep and she yawned, covering her mouth with a slightly heavier hand, a ring now weighing it down. She was a wife. Had been for a week, but neither she nor Thomas had told anybody while they were still in Hawaii, not wanting to burst the bubble of bliss they'd found themselves in. But they were home and friends and loved ones needed to be informed.

Telling Louis yesterday had been fun, and she was convinced most of her closest friends would have a similar surprised yet cheerful reaction, because everyone already adored Thomas.

The only thing left to do was think of a way of breaking the news to Harvey. He had found out about her dating Thomas by accident, their relationship nearly cost him his license, and now she would spring this on him. For days, she'd been wracking her brain, trying to find the right words and she almost had them down, rehearsed them until they became part of a monologue she could recite at the drop of a hat. If only she could get rid of the crippling nerves crawling up her spine whenever she thought about the inevitable face-to-face.

But all of that would be for tomorrow. Right now, she wanted to tell someone whose reaction she didn't have to dread.

Taking a photo of her adorned finger, she sent it to her friend across the country, waiting anxiously for her reply. When her phone did ring a moment later, an image of her and Thomas enjoying the sunset appeared and she smiled, thinking he must have programmed that for her when she hadn't been watching.

"Hey, handsome."

"Hey, beautiful. How was Connecticut?"

"It was nice. My parents can't wait to meet you. They invited us over for dinner this weekend," Donna said, twirling the diamond on her finger.

"I'm looking forward to it. Listen, I told Harvey."

"What? Harvey knows?" Donna asked, her entire body on high alert. This was bad. Hell, this was beyond bad. This was disastrous.

"Yeah. I had a meeting with Alex scheduled but Harvey filled in and that's when he saw the ring and put two and two together. He didn't look too happy. And I know you said you wanted to tell him yourself, but I wasn't gonna lie about it, either."

Donna didn't respond. Of course, he wouldn't lie about their updated domestic status, but by God, did she wish he had.

When she remained silent, Thomas heaved a sigh. "Listen, your relationship with him is complicated, so I think you should talk to him."

"Yeah. I will."

"I just thought you should know. I have another call coming through, I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll be home in an hour." Stunned, Donna stared at her phone's wallpaper once the connection ended, scrambling to figure out a way to contain the situation. She should call Harvey. Although this wasn't a conversation to have over the phone, if he even answered her call at all. _Shit._ She needed to see him tonight, owing him at least that much.

Her phone rang again and Donna pushed her momentary panic aside, sliding her thumb across the device.

"Ohmygod, you're engaged? Congratulations! Donna! I am so excited! You guys are so cute together."

"Rachel. Slow down," Donna commanded, then took a breath, still reeling from Thomas' bombshell. "I'm not engaged."

Donna let the statement hang between them for a minute, waiting for the moment Rachel pieced it all together.

"No way. You're married? How?"

"I am."

As Donna relayed the story of her unplanned wedding, her emotions split in two. The infatuation she felt was real and picturing a future with Thomas was easy. But blindsiding Harvey with the developments in her personal life had been an unfathomable worst-case scenario, and a sting of regret punctured her joy.

When the conversation inevitably moved towards her former boss, Donna struggled to maintain her uplifted spirit.

"So, he found out from Thomas?" Rachel asked incredulously, her disdain for the plight crystal clear, which only fueled the guilt that had already taken residence deep within Donna's heart.

"I know. I should have told him. But my parents needed me in Connecticut, and I didn't want to do it over the phone. I'm afraid he's mad, Rach."

"Can you blame him? How would you feel if he married his latest flavor of the month and didn't tell you?"

"Thomas is not just the latest flavor of the month!" Donna shot back, annoyed at the comparison and suddenly very protective of her…husband.

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply—"

"It's okay. I get your point." Yeah. She'd be pretty fucking upset, too.

"Donna, he's been in love with you for years. And now he knows he'll never have his chance again. Of course, he's gonna be mad. Just give him time. He can't live without you. He'll come around."

Glancing over the entirety of Rachel's statement because her friend's wishful thinking regarding Harvey's feelings was hardly helping, she only responded to her last comment. "I hope so." Because she was nowhere near ready to think about what might happen if he didn't.

* * *

Three knocks were all she had in her, her stomach doing somersaults as her chest constricted from some invisible rope pulling tighter and tighter until all there was left were short gasps of little to no oxygen making her lightheaded, fast.

The door opened a moment later and Donna recoiled from the hollow, livid eyes staring down at her. Before Harvey even spoke, Donna caught a whiff of alcohol, and she cursed under her breath. He must have been home for a while. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, but one had come undone, his tie had been discarded and the tumbler in his hand was practically empty and likely ready for a refill.

"Go away, Donna." Bringing the glass to his lips, his feet planted firmly into the ground, Harvey tried to intimidate her into leaving.

She breezed past him. Drunk or not, they had to have it out, because if she left now, she might never find the courage again. Every step she took further into his condo carried more weight and she stopped at his kitchen island.

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't." Ignoring her position, Harvey went to his burning fireplace and put down the glass he'd been nursing. A half-empty bottle of Scotch waited on his table, so he plopped open the decanter and topped himself up.

"Fine. Then I'll talk." She took a breath, finding the words, when his voice thundered through the air.

"Why? What is there to say? Huh?"

The ear-splitting resonance of glass hitting glass shook her to her core as she watched the tumbler he had put down wobble briefly before it found its footing on the tabletop while Harvey gestured wildly with his now free hands.

"You got married. Well, congratulations, Donna. I wish you a prosperous life together." Dropping his arms to the side, he growled, "Now get the hell out of my apartment."

Donna flinched, the venom in his tone one she hadn't witnessed before. A slap in the face would have been less painful, but then again hurt people hurt people. "If there is nothing to talk about, then why are you so mad?" She fought the tears, watching the pain she'd caused unfurl before her eyes.

"I'm not mad."

"Sure, I can tell." Crossing her arms, she stood her ground, despite the increasing desire to flee.

"What do you want from me, Donna? You come here, saying we should talk when you didn't even have the balls to tell me yourself you got _married_. What is there left to say?"

He made 'married' sound like a heinous crime and she winced. "I came here to apologize. You shouldn't have found out the way you did."

"Apology accepted. Now go." _Home. to your husband_.

Harvey watched Donna's shoulders fall as his insides burned, doing everything in his power to stay upright, when all he wanted to do was drop to his knees and weep, desperation running wild beneath his desire to do something really goddamn stupid. Like kiss her.

Without another word, Donna swallowed her loss and left, the march back down the hall a walk of shame she would carry in her soul for the rest of her days. Just when she was about to close the door behind her, the piercing sound of shattering glass echoed through the space, followed by a howl so intense, she stiffened before quickly pulling on the handle until she heard the lock fall into place.

The tears came as the tension which had settled in her body when she had first stepped off the elevator dissipated, and all that was left was a pain so overwhelming, she was certain no sun would ever shine again.

With a subtle ding, the metal doors opened as a deep sense of loss befell her. Nothing had changed between them, yet everything was different. They were still friends. They still worked together. And their relationship had withstood tougher times. Right? They would find their footing again. They just had to.

* * *

_Donna's phone rang but when she read the name on the display, she hastily denied the call and put the device on silent, refocusing on the man next to her on the couch._

_Thomas had come over after Harvey's hearing, relaying what had gone down, even though he didn't understand why one of the name partners—who had not been involved in any way before—had taken the blame._

_"So, Harvey is okay?" Donna asked hesitantly, shelving the other details for a later date when she would unquestionably have to face the wrath of Samantha for losing her mentor._

_"He is." Thomas took an unsteady breath, needing to continue the conversation they had started earlier. "Listen, Donna. This morning you said something about Harvey being a part of you. Is that all or is there more to the story?"_

_A web of tension wove itself into every muscle in her body. Oftentimes before she'd had the same discussion with men who eventually walked away, unable to handle her intricate and undefinable relationship with Harvey. Yet, Thomas was different, and she had to chance losing their delicate, blossoming, romantic relationship by baring the truth, knowing it was the only way. "He and I have been through so much over the past fifteen years. He is one of my closest friends. You have to realize we've been side by side through many trials and today he could have lost everything he's ever worked for because I chose you over him. But I do choose you, Thomas. Because I choose myself."_

_A frown appeared on his forehead, an obvious indication she had to stop dancing around the essence of her past with Harvey. "Look, Harvey and I slept together. It happened once when we both left the DA's office over a decade ago. Then he asked me to come with him to this firm, and I told him we had to forget about it. And we did." Sort of._

_Thomas ran a hand over his face, letting her revelation wash over him. "So, nothing has happened since? You're just friends?"_

_Appreciating how history could repeat itself, dread came over her. Would she be able to withstand another relationship failing because of her non-situation with Harvey? Not likely. And the time had come to break the pattern. "We kissed once. Last year. I needed to know if there was something there. But there wasn't. And I have been more than ready to move on, I just hadn't met the right man to do it with." Terrified he might bail, she took his hand in hers. "If you give me a chance, I promise you, he won't be a problem." The declaration was a prayer, as much as a statement, one she hoped would come true, more than anything._

_No struggle ever fazed Thomas before and as he stared at the redhead fidgeting nervously with his fingers, he mulled over his options. Stay and possibly have to share her affection or leave and walk out on one of the most remarkable women he had ever met. Who apparently had a past. Then again, who didn't? Donna Paulsen was everything he had spent his life looking for and didn't think existed. From the moment they'd met, she'd been on his mind and he had all but fallen in love with her on their first date. If she was willing to forsake her history with Harvey, he was willing to grant her the space to do so, because jealousy simply wasn't in his nature, especially now that he knew where they stood as a couple._

_He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. "I'm not going anywhere."_

_They left for dinner a short while later, taking tentative steps to a real future together._

_So, when Harvey knocked on her door, her apartment was empty._

* * *

Breaking glass on purpose always seemed like a good idea until you had to clean up your own mess or risk cutting your feet every time you walked by. The debris wasn't exactly something Harvey wanted to explain to his housekeeper either, so he got down on his knees and started gathering the bits and pieces of an object which used to be whole, but now lay shattered all over the floor.

While picking at the shards of glass, his thoughts spiraled away from the task at hand and Harvey cursed the alcohol in his veins from letting his demons get the better of him.

How could she do this? Get married and then not tell him? How could she get married at all? She'd only known the guy for a few months. Did she even love Kessler? How could she love another man when she was supposed to love _him_? And did that not make him an asshole. As if she would be waiting for him forever. It's not like he ever gave her reason to consider him husband material. Hell, he had never even told her how he felt.

The thing tightening that rope around his chest most was the knowledge their friendship would once again change. No more dinners or late-night phone calls. No more flirting because it wouldn't be appropriate. And not because they didn't want to, but because they wanted to honor whoever was waiting for them at home.

The phone in his pocket vibrated and he reached for it, answering the call reluctantly when he saw the caller ID. As he tried to get up, Harvey lost his balance and to steady himself placed his hand right over a sharp piece. "Goddammit!" Immediately, blood started oozing from the wound in a slow train. _Great_. Just what he needed tonight.

He put the phone on speaker and let the faucet clean the slash. "What do you want, Mike?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just cut myself on some glass," he said, wincing at the pain while trying idly to remember if he had any bandages in the house to wrap the inch-long gash with.

"I meant, how are you doing—"

"I'm fine, Mike. I don't need a babysitter because she got married."

The hell he didn't. "Harvey…"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. Maybe admit that it bothers you."

"It doesn't. If she's happy, I'm happy for her."

The icy tone with which Harvey answered his questions as if he were on trial, made Mike regret trading New York for Seattle. What he wouldn't give now to have a drink with his friend and mentor and to be able to read his body language. His poker face was pretty good, but when it came to Donna, he was lousy at hiding his true emotions.

The sound of running water ended and was replaced with muffled noises and glass clinking, until the rustling of fabric was heard and footsteps echoed, followed by a dull thudding, as if something large sat on something solid.

Mike waited.

"She didn't even tell me in person," Harvey finally said, his voice wavering as he poured himself some Scotch.

Rachel had reported as much and it had pissed him off. "I'm sorry, man."

Harvey stared into the dancing flames of the fireplace, getting lost in their motion as his anger gently swayed into grief, grateful for the lawyer on the other end of the line, even though neither of them had any influence over this situation and the powerlessness was overwhelming.

The silence stretched on.

As Harvey stared at his bandaged hand, he figured it was only natural he was injured, because he felt like a large part of him had been ripped out, leaving a void he wasn't sure would ever be filled. Since his brother's divorce, Harvey had grown increasingly aware of his feelings for Donna, up until the moment he'd knocked on her door with a clean slate to practice law, and a dire need to have her by his side.

He loved her. And now she had moved on.

"I think I lost her for good this time." Cutting himself had sobered him up some, but clearly not enough, because he was too late to catch the confession escaping his lips.

For some reason, Mike responded as if he hadn't just bared his soul. But then again, Mike had always known, hadn't he?

"Does she know?"

"Know what?"

"How you feel. Have you told her?"

Harvey swirled the liquid around in his glass, briefly letting the what-if scenario play before his eyes, but he cut the images short, the pain of what could have been only adding to the misery he already felt. "No. And I'm not going to."

"Why not?"

"She's married, Mike. I won't be that guy."

Mike chewed on the words for a minute and found he couldn't argue, but _goddammit_ if his friends ever caught a break. "Listen, if you need to talk, call, okay?"

"I will."

He wouldn't. Instead, he would suffer through this nightmare until it no longer hurt.

* * *

"How did it go?" Thomas sat up from his couch, eagerness in his eyes as he watched his wife meander over to him, purse dropping to the floor absently as she shrugged out of her coat.

The redness on her cheeks was an alarming sign, so he met her halfway.

"As well as expected." If the expectation had been bloodshed. She kissed him without conviction and mumbled, "I'm going to bed. I'm exhausted."

Thomas watched her go, his lips salty from her tear-stained peck. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Donna had married him, had _chosen_ him, but Harvey still was a considerable influence in her life. Maybe she just needed time to adjust, but he'd be lying if this situation didn't unease him.

When he climbed under the covers a while later, he could tell Donna, curled up into herself, wasn't asleep. So, he slid his arm over her delicate frame, and kissed her shoulder softly. "It'll get better."

"I hope so," she murmured mournfully, leaning into his embrace. "What if he can't forgive me?"

"If your friendship means anything to him, he'll find a way."

"I appreciate you being so understanding, Thomas," she said, turning to look at him.

"Of course, Donna. Why wouldn't I be?" Another kiss. "I love you."

Donna clutched the arm wrapped around her. "I love you, too," she echoed, trying on the words for size. She had told him before. Once or twice. The first time in response to his question. _Do you love me?_ was quite easy to answer with an 'I do,' she'd found.

However, saying 'I love you' should never feel like a lie, and yet it did.

Everything was so different now. Hawaii had been the happiest Donna had ever felt. Crazy in love, excited, exhilarated about her future. A future with a husband and perhaps some kids. With a brownstone and a dog and frequent trips to Europe, just because they could.

But when Thomas had called her that afternoon, all those images had evaporated like visions in a dream being interrupted by the alarm clock going off, jolting her into a reality she wasn't ready to face.

Moving on from Harvey was a process. She knew it, had lived it for the past months. But seeing the anguish in his eyes—despite his rage—had left a bitter taste in her mouth. He was never going to take the news well, but she would have at least tried to soften the blow, not hit him over the head with a sledgehammer.

Finding out the way he had was something she had a hard time swallowing. She'd had a plan, a speech, an explanation. A defense.

 _Right_. Because when it came to Harvey, she had felt like she'd needed one. If any of her friends had felt the need to defend their marriage, she would have scoffed at them and told them to reexamine their choices. But nothing was ever black and white. She cared deeply about Thomas. But she also cared deeply for Harvey. And their friendship, or even their dynamic as coworkers, would undoubtedly change now that she was married.

Out of nowhere that notion crushed her insides and in the dark of night, she cried silent tears to the pattern of her husband's peaceful sighs.

* * *

The following days, Donna was showered with wedding gifts as word about her marriage traveled around the firm like a wildfire.

Harvey tried hard to ignore the wall of presents cramping Donna's office. He resented himself for his initial reaction, wishing he had been more understanding. But for some reason, convincing himself he was happy for her was an impossible feat. All of his past declarations regarding her relationships had been lies to maintain the status quo, his true feelings for her buried beneath layers of bullshit, inaccessible to him at the time and easy to reject, but he wasn't the same man he was back then.

And faking excitement now was a hell of a lot harder with a wedding ring mocking him for being such a coward all those years.

So, he ignored it. And her. And when it came time to go home, he made sure not to pass her office on his way to the elevators. He was about to hit the button when a flash of auburn drifted through his peripheral vision. As his finger touched cold metal, he looked up into her dark eyes, the retreating look of apprehension almost imperceptible, even though her body was noticeably tense. The discomfort stung like a knife. How had they gotten here? And would they ever get back on track?

"Going home? her soft voice asked.

"Yeah." He didn't want to ask, because his brain would inevitably go _there_ , but his mouth didn't care. "You?"

"Me too."

Home. A thought crashed into his consciousness that if she had moved in with Thomas, he didn't even have her address.

Her gaze dropped to his bandaged hand and she asked, "What happened there?"

"Nothing. Just a little cut."

Donna seemed to accept his answer with a wry smile and no additional prying, which was unlike her and illustrated painfully how their dynamic had already changed.

The elevator dinged a moment later, breaking the tension that had engulfed them, but he knew how long the ride down was and he took a deep breath, bracing himself for whatever was to come next, pleading he could somehow skip the upcoming thirty seconds.

His heart was pounding so hard, it echoed in his ears and he wished he could make small talk, distract his brain by keeping his mouth occupied with words. But although she was within arm's reach, she was a million miles away and he didn't know how to breach the divide, when all he longed to do was wrap his arms around her and tell her—

"Goodnight, Harvey."

Donna waved past him through the doors, not even waiting for a reply, when he captured a whiff of her perfume lingering in the air and he recoiled at the scent, blasted with a loneliness he had not experienced before which expanded the already empty crater in his chest to new depths.

For Donna, the next two weeks went by in a blur, and the idea she had made the right decision became harder to hold on to with each passing day.

Her new husband had met her parents and had successfully charmed them into adoration after only one meal. Clara had wasted no time bringing up the possibility of having grandkids, to which Thomas had cordially replied they were taking things slow but were discussing it, while Jim had fawned over Thomas' keen business sense, picking his brain about the retail market and the future of Thomas Furniture.

He was the son-in-law they'd always wanted.

Donna had observed the interaction like a bystander, as if the scene in front of her was about someone else's life and not her own.

Joy. Excitement. Any exultation would have been warranted. Instead, she couldn't seem to shake the nagging voice telling her something wasn't right. Still, every time she leaned into the belief marrying Thomas had been a mistake, a wave of shame crashed into her so overwhelming, she always instantly let the notion go.

Because her marriage _had to_ work. The alternative was going back to pining for a man who would never be ready, and that was simply not an option. Not after thirteen years. And especially since said man had all but disappeared from her life. Nowadays, her interactions with Harvey were short and to the point. No more jokes, or even small talk. Most certainly no more drinks or pre-trial rituals. Courteous exchanges and forced niceties were all they shared, aside from the lingering glances neither seemed to be able to prevent, reminding her that although they behaved as such, there was too much history between them to be strangers. And those seconds of eye contact trapped them in tiny heartbeats where nothing else existed. Then in the blink of an eye, something or someone inevitably hauled them into the present while a fragment of herself stayed behind, lost forever between the past and a moment ago.

The more time went on, the more she felt like she was losing a part of herself. But she was Donna. And she soldiered on, because walking away from a decision without at least giving it her all wasn't in her nature.

···

On Wednesday morning, Donna dropped by Louis' office, paperwork in hand.

"Louis, is Harvey in today? I need him to sign these," she said, waving two manila folders in the air. "But I haven't seen him all day." Lately, that wasn't such an exception and she ignored the knot in her stomach, tightening further the expanding chasm between her and the person she used to call her best friend.

"Donna, no, he isn't." Louis stated, a nervous look on his face. "Didn't you hear? His mom had a heart attack last night."

"Oh my god." A shot of sheer panic traveled down her spine, and she held her breath, waiting for Louis to expand. "Is she okay?"

"It looks like she'll make it. She had triple bypass surgery and is recovering. I'm surprised he didn't tell you," Louis noted absently.

 _I'm not_ , she thought. "These can wait."

She returned to her office with a burning desire to call Harvey and was just about to dial his number when she stopped herself. He hadn't reached out to her and where before she would have waltzed straight through his armor, she now faltered, afraid to trespass his boundaries and cause an even greater rift.

Her heart broke. Not only for his mom nearly dying, but for her not being by his side, as she should be.


	2. Part 2

···

**Something Blue**

_Part 2_

°•.•°

Donna's keys jingled loudly as she dropped them in the tray on the hallway table and she crossed the hall down to the origin of a mouthwatering smell. Although she was still in the process of moving into Thomas' condo, coming home to him cooking her dinner was remarkably easy to get used to.

With an apron wrapped around his waist, Thomas was slaving over the stove, a smile painting his face the moment he laid eyes on her. "Hey! You're home. I'm making Lasagna. Are you hungry?"

Walking up behind him to peer over his shoulder, she motioned for his lips to meet hers in a chaste kiss. "Starving."

As she set the table and listened to Thomas chat about his day, none of what he was saying registered. Even after they sat down and she had food distracting her from her thoughts, it was difficult to focus on anything other than Harvey being by his mother's bedside in Boston. Alone.

"Is everything okay?" Thomas asked, as he placed a cup of coffee in front of her.

"Yeah."

"Then why do you keep checking your phone?"

Donna nervously chewed on her lip, ready to lie to the man she had promised to spend the rest of her life with, especially since the _H-word_ had become a sensitive subject. Or rather, an unspoken subject.

"Harvey's mom had a heart attack. I think she's okay, but I haven't heard from him and—"

Thomas sighed audibly, causing Donna to wince. "Why don't you call him?"

"Because…" She closed her eyes, hugging herself against the chill of the truth. "He's still mad at me."

"Look, it's obvious he has feelings for you. Just—"

"What makes you say that?" Other people had pointed out the same, but she was genuinely curious about Thomas' reasoning. A more courageous person might have analyzed Harvey's reaction to her marriage, but doing a deep-dive into his emotions was something she had sworn never to repeat—the fallout of the last time he had blurted out he loved her still painfully fresh in her memory.

"Please, Donna." Thomas leaned back in his chair, away from her. "Why else would he be mad at you?"

All she did was shake her head in stubborn refusal.

"Is there something I should know?" he inquired, hating that he apparently wasn't as trusting and comfortable with his wife's relationship with another man as he'd convinced himself he was. Then again, ever since they had gotten back from Hawaii, she had grown more distracted and withdrawn, her behavior in sharp contrast to the carefree start of their honeymoon.

She gave him a defiant look. "No, Thomas. There isn't."

"'Cause you know I am fine with your friendship, but it seems to me he might not be fine with you being merely friends. And you have been…distant lately."

"It's just complicated." The beaten-to-death response rolled off her tongue without thinking, but she did wonder. _Why_ was their relationship so complicated? Yes, she'd be equally upset if the roles were reversed. But what compelled that reaction? She didn't have feelings for Harvey, right? They were frie—

"I know." Thomas reached across the table for her hand. "If it makes you feel better, just give him a call in the morning. I'm sure he'd appreciate the support."

Shaken from her own train of thought, she smiled at his gesture. "I will."

Great. Now, besides worrying about Harvey and her own cloudy emotions, she was washed with guilt because of Thomas' understanding and encouragement. Especially since he had just pointed out her preoccupancy of late.

That night, Thomas made love to her until Harvey became a faint memory. Temporarily. Come dawn, he'd be right at the forefront of her mind again. If she was fortunate enough to keep him out of her dreams.

···

The next morning, light was already peering in through the cracks of the curtains, the body next to her snoring softly when she awoke with a jolt, the images blurring rapidly in her awakening brain. Her heart raced for no apparent reason other than the anxiety filled dream her subconscious was letting go of.

Heaving a sigh, Donna reached for her phone. 5:45 am. No messages.

A few weeks ago, she'd have been the first person Harvey would have called, and a gust of cold despair rushed through her chest cavity at the idea she was being excluded from his world, no longer needed nor wanted and the loss lanced her heart.

She couldn't stand it any more. There were things in life superseding their issues and whatever was keeping them apart. She needed to talk to him; wanted to be there for him or at least let him know that no piece of jewelry could ever end their friendship.

However, the time of day wasn't exactly optimal for an in-depth conversation. So, she opted for a text instead.

_I heard about your mom. Is she okay? Are you?_

Her thumb hovered over the 'send' button for a moment, unsure of how her message would be received. Still, she needed him to know she was here for him, regardless. So, she tapped the screen. And waited.

The letters spelling 'seen' appeared almost immediately. And five minutes later there was still no reply.

* * *

The beeping of the heart rate monitor keeping a check on his mom's heartbeat provided a dull rhythm for the wilted thoughts gushing through his mind.

Harvey had lain awake in bed when Donna had texted him, and while there had been a desire to connect with her, his own stubbornness had prevented him from doing so.

The last few weeks in the office he'd kept his distance—the only way he knew to protect himself from the dire ache saturating his soul on a daily basis. Of course, it was petty, trying to punish her by keeping her at arm's length, as if she had lost the right to be in his life. The effort was especially idiotic since she wasn't the only one being punished. Because no matter where they stood, he wanted her here, although he hated himself for needing her.

After the surgery yesterday, Lily had been talkative, animated, like she had a new lease on life and Harvey had taken the opportunity to enjoy the time by her bedside, recalling happy childhood memories of baseball games and Halloweens, family barbecues with his grandparents and sneaking into clubs, while he and Marcus were still underage, to watch their dad play.

When visiting hours were drawing to a close, Lily had looked exhausted and the doctors had told him that sleep was the best way to recover. He'd left feeling happy and revived. Half an hour ago he had returned to find his mother asleep again, and he'd kept a vigil as his thoughts wandered off to the other woman in his life.

"Maybe, I should stay up here for a little while. I could use a break," he whispered to Lily's unconscious form. "Donna got married and I know I should be happy for her, but I'm not."

He dropped his face in his hands, shaking his head at the realization dawning on him.

"It should have been me," he choked softly, sighing the hurt away as he wrapped his mom's limp hand between both palms. "I could really use your advice right about now."

Out of nowhere, the noise in the room tripled as an alarm went off and the rhythmic beeping sound amplified and evened out into a single, slightly off-key tone. He stood from his seat as two nurses came rushing in, asking him to stand back as the display showed a flat line where a pulse had been visible before.

Harvey looked on in horror as they frantically worked to get her heart beating again.

* * *

Donna awoke from a buzzing on her nightstand. Looking at the alarm clock, she squinted to discern 1:56 am in red letters before she realized it wasn't the alarm creating the nuisance, but her phone. So, she lifted the thing to stop the noise and to see who could be calling her in the dead of night. When she read the name on the display, she slipped out of bed and trotted out of the room.

"Harvey?"

There was an eerie silence prowling the line, and when he made an indistinguishable sound, her other senses shut down, so her hearing reached a level even bats would kill for, trying to detect any details about his location, his mindset, whatever could clue her in on what was going on. She waited with bated breath and was about to speak, when his voice shattered her.

"She's gone," he whispered hoarsely.

Her already racing heart stopped abruptly as her brain scrambled aimlessly to find the right thing to say where words could never suffice. "What happened? I thought she was getting better?"

"Complications, post-op."

Another silence, and this time Donna heard a clear sob that tore her insides to shreds. Gathering herself to swallow the lump forming in her own throat, she croaked, "Harvey, is there anyth—"

"I've lost everything."

No! He hadn't! She was still here. Why couldn't he see that? The desire to shout was immensely strong, but his silent sniffs rendered Donna mute. At a loss for words, she wanted to cry. However, too soon the connection was broken, and Harvey's uneven breathing disappeared into the night.

Donna stared at her phone, crippled by the news Lily had passed away and overwhelmed with the need to book the next flight out to Boston. But she couldn't do that, could she? If ever their lines had been clear, now was definitely the time, and her heart broke anew, the only upside being he had reached out to her for the first time in weeks.

* * *

The balmy morning air held a promise of another sweltering day as Donna slung her yoga bag over her shoulder and pulled her sunglasses from her head down to her nose. The trusty 9 am class on Sunday always invigorated her and after the past several emotionally draining days—weeks even—she was grateful for the added energy now coursing through her exhausted body.

Two days had passed since Harvey's midnight shocker, and although she had tried to get him on the phone, he'd never responded to any of her subsequent messages or calls and she had all but given up. He clearly didn't want to speak to her, so she would wait for him to seek her out again. At least she knew Mike had talked to him yesterday, but that was it. No one else had spoken to him and that made the notion he was going through this alone all the more devastating.

On her way back home, her phone started ringing with a familiar number flashing across her screen and she braced herself, this man's calls never a good sign.

"What's wrong?" she commanded, willing her nerves away.

"Donna, he's not doing too well."

"What do you mean? What's going on, Marcus?"

"I think he had a panic attack yesterday. The funeral is in a couple of days. He won't talk to me. I don't know—"

The distress in his voice could only mean one thing. "Do you need me to come up there?"

"Listen, Donna, I don't know what happened between you guys, but…I didn't know who else to call," he added, despair making his voice quiver.

"I'll text you the details of my flight." No sooner than her phone disappeared into her bag did she start to jog the last several hundred yards home.

* * *

Browsing through her still not fully organized closet, Donna scrambled to put a few outfits together when Thomas walked into the room. She had texted him twenty minutes ago, assuming his own weekend workout routine meant he wouldn't read her message until later, giving her ample time to cowardly sneak out and dodge a confrontation.

"You're going to Boston?" he asked, astounded she had decided this on a moment's notice without so much as a phone call.

"I am," she said, keeping her focus on dresses and skirts. Summer meant thin layers and she had plenty of things to choose from. If only she knew what to pack.

"How long?"

"I don't know. The funeral is on Tuesday, I guess until then," she answered, picking a few items out and laying them on the bed for folding.

"And Louis was okay with you taking off like this?"

Without a glance, Donna replied, "Harvey is family. So, of course he is okay with it."

Thomas stared at her detached form, not knowing how to respond. "Should I be worried?"

Where were her black booties? And that one cardigan for the cooler nights? Dammit. Why wasn't anything where she needed it to be in this new wardrobe? And Thomas was waiting for an answer. Something about worrying. Right. "No, I don't know." She didn't care. She had a suitcase to pack and no time to lose, because her plane was leaving in a few hours.

"Donna, I'm not sure I'm comfortable—"

"Thomas, don't," she warned, her eyes shooting to meet his. There was no doubt in her mind. This was the right thing to do and even a wedding band wouldn't change that persuasion. "I can't argue about this. You and I have known each other for about two minutes. I've known Harvey for _fifteen years_." The fiercely protective instinct that coursed through her veins stunned her, but she leaned into the sensation, because her entire being resonated with it. "I'm sorry you feel uncomfortable, but I'm not asking for permission."

"Donna!"

Hearing Thomas raise his voice momentarily halted her movements, never having heard this gentle soul speak with anything but kindness, and she exhaled deeply. Maybe she had overreacted, and surely he deserved an explanation. Which she would give. As soon as she got back. "I'm sorry, Thomas. But I have to do this." Despite the consequences. Or perhaps because of them.

···

At 3:35 pm, Donna's plane touched down.

Walking through the crowded arrival's hall, she spotted Marcus the moment she stepped outside, the warm wind blanketing her in a suffocating layer of humidity, smothering her resolve. Sharp rays of sunlight pierced her eyes and she squinted against them as she crossed the parking lot, swearing under her breath, because she just realized that in the rush of packing she'd left her sunglasses at home.

"Hey, you," Marcus said, drawing Donna in a tight embrace. "It's good to see you."

"You too, Marcus." She gripped his arms and gave him a soft smile. "I wish the circumstances were better, though. I am so incredibly sorry for your loss."

"Thanks. Yeah, she took us all by surprise."

Measuring the younger Specter, she read the grief in his eyes and in the taut muscles forcing his lips into a smile. Before her stood a man who had just lost his mother. Harvey had harbored the same loss for a long time. What a cruel twist of fate to have him reconcile with her only to have him lose her all over again.

"Come on, I'll give you the scenic route," he said, unlocking his car and getting in behind the wheel.

The sauna-like inside of Marcus' station wagon did nothing to soothe her unease as they made their way onto Highway 90.

As Marcus caught her up on his life, the lines in his face revealed he had aged quite a bit from the last time they'd met. Then again, he'd been through enough over the past decade, life's struggles were bound to leave a mark at some point.

"So, tell me. What happened between you two?" Marcus asked, turning the conversation's focus on Donna. "I mentioned your name and he got all weird."

Donna lifted her left hand and waved the gold band with the inset diamond in his face.

"Oh, jeez. No wonder he's been so out of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. He just seemed more down than usual when he got here. Spent hours talking to Mom, which lifted his spirits some, but then…" He choked on the words, no doubt hit by another wave of devastation.

Donna squeezed his arm in comfort. "It's gonna be okay."

Marcus swallowed thickly. "He doesn't know you're coming. I haven't seen him since last night. He just disappears into his room. Doesn't eat, not much anyway."

Wonderful. Basically, she'd be blindsiding Harvey with her presence and suddenly the idea seemed utterly insane. Because when Marcus had initially told her he wasn't doing well, her first instinct had been to go see him and make everything better. Like she had done a thousand times before. But the dynamic between them had shifted and they weren't in the same place as they used to be.

A new flash of panic traveled up her spine and down into her nervous system. "He's really mad at me, Marcus."

"For getting married?" God, for somebody who was supposedly older and wiser, his brother was an idiot.

"I guess. I…We…eloped. And I didn't have a chance to tell him, so he found out from—" _my husband_ "—Thomas. And I tried to apologize, but he wouldn't hear it. And ever since things have been…off between us."

"He'll get over it."

"I hope so." But was this the time and place to force him into doing something he was unwilling to? Still, as she stared at the passing trees and houses whizzing by, she remained convinced this was where she needed to be.

"After my divorce, Harvey was there for me in a way he hadn't been before. I mean, I knew he'd help me out with the legal stuff, but he was really there for me after that was all over, you know?"

"I remember. Your divorce was hard on him, too."

From his fixed stare straight ahead and his jaw clenching tightly, she could tell he was contemplating something, so Donna waited.

"I know he doesn't need me. He's never needed me," Marcus added mournfully. "But he needs someone. And calling you was all I could think of to help him."

The grief and despair enveloped him in a death grip and Donna reached out to place her hand over his resting on the gear shift, grateful Harvey hadn't been completely alone during this time, even though he might not see it that way. "Harvey is great at a lot of things, but showing affection isn't exactly one of them." They shared a knowing look. "But he loves you, Marcus. You're a good brother."

His lips smiled, but his eyes didn't when he acknowledged her comment with a nod.

They hardly spoke for the rest of the ride.

Twenty minutes later, Donna followed Marcus up the porch steps leading to his front door. Every passing moment was a moment she was closer to facing Harvey and she steeled herself for his reaction, unsure how she'd find him and even more concerned he might not want to see her at all. Until then, she would conjure the actress in her and fake the fact she wasn't a nervous wreck.

Tugging along her carry-on, he unlocked the door. "Don't mind the mess, the kids were home before… It's a sty."

"Come on, Marcus, you know I don't care—" Donna choked as her eyes locked with Harvey's who was just coming down the stairs in a t-shirt and shorts, gym bag in hand.

Meeting his confused gaze, she gave him a faint smile. "Hey."

What was that saying again about ripping the Band-Aid off? That it hurt like a bitch? Or was ripping the thing off supposed to hurt less? Either way, it was all a big load of crap.

His bewilderment quickly faded into the resentment he'd been carrying as his memory caught up with the current moment. "What the hell are you doing here?" he barked.

"I asked her to come here," Marcus interjected. "And she's staying in Haley's room."

"She's staying here?" Harvey bit back, incredulously.

"She is." With that, he passed Harvey by on the stairs, taking her luggage with him and ignoring his brother's exasperation.

Donna wanted to holler she was standing _right there_ as the men bickered, but she swallowed her indignation.

A flash of annoyed defeat crossed Harvey's face and he sighed on his way down. When he crossed in front of her, he growled, "I don't need your pity," and slammed the door behind him.

The resonance sent a ripple of anxiety through her bravery, which fueled her own frustration. He had been shutting her out for too long. She sure as hell hadn't come all this way only to be dismissed upon arrival. So, she yanked open the door, ready to yell to his retreating back, but Harvey stood unmoving on the porch, his head hung forward, pinching the bridge of his nose.

···

The moment he heard the creaking of the porch's wooden boards behind him, Harvey turned to face the woman he both loved and hated. He was so goddamn angry at her. And for what? Moving on with her life because he wasn't the kind of man she needed? Sure. Because punishing her for his faults was fair. God, she really did deserve someone like Kessler, who at least treated her better than he did.

As their eyes met, anger and surprise—mixed with a tinge of apprehension—flickered in her gaze and he couldn't blame her. All he had done lately was snap at her, unable to rein in warring emotions whenever she was near. Yet, here she was. Again. No doubt because his little brother had called for backup. And didn't he just love him for it.

Although his wounds were raw, she had seen it all before, and the fact she was standing here before him instead of running in the opposite direction kept him from running, too. So, he planted his feet firmly on the ground as she slowly moved towards him.

Donna witnessed the destruction glistening his gaze and felt the disarming effect it had on her own emotions. He was broken, crumbling before her very eyes, and she knew she'd made the right decision coming here. "I'm so sorry, Harvey."

He briefly wondered what for, but none of it mattered as all his defenses came undone. All at once, he stepped forward, dropped the duffel, and engulfed her in his arms—letting go of the bitterness, albeit temporarily. Right now, he needed to hug her until the mind-numbing pain, which had woven its way around his very existence, subsided.

* * *

That night, Harvey poured himself another glass of Scotch, looking across the table at Donna who shook her head to signify she'd had enough to drink.

After their moment on the porch, they hadn't shared much at all. Harvey had excused himself and had gone to the gym as he'd intended, and when he'd returned, the three of them had had dinner, chatting about anything and nothing. Marcus and Donna had talked each other's ears off—like old friends catching up—with a preoccupied Harvey adding a concurring nod or disapproving groan when prompted until Marcus had called it a night a few minutes ago.

The second they were by themselves, the tension had intensified as a silence befell them, built from a wall of unspoken grievances, lined with sorrow, satiating the atmosphere with a hint of electricity where even the tiniest spark could set the whole damn thing ablaze.

Drained of any and all energy to keep pretending, Donna decided it was time to share some hard truths. Tiptoeing around the inevitable would only make things worse and they needed to clear the air. "I wish you would have called me when your mom was first taken to the hospital," Donna whispered, her eyes glued to the glass between her fingers.

"Yeah well, I figured you'd have other…things to worry about." Like a husband.

"Harvey. We're still friends. Thomas knows that. He's fine with it."

Harvey dropped his gaze at that godforsaken word he'd come to loath. _Friends_. "How noble of him."

"Harvey…"

"I'm sorry. I guess I should be glad he is so understanding. God knows, most of them aren't," he scoffed.

"You mean Paula?"

"Paula. Scottie. Mark." Maybe Thomas also wasn't as okay as he made it seem. Maybe Donna was here against his wishes. Maybe that meant trouble in paradise. Maybe…

Harvey caught himself spiraling into the dark side of his psyche and stopped himself short. Was he really such a selfish asshole he wanted her marriage to fail? What? So, she could ride off into the sunset with him? Apparently. _Dammit_. He heaved a sigh, glad Donna's voice provided something else to focus on.

"Paula took the cake. She had you fire me."

"She also never would have been okay with me doing what you're doing now."

"Well, Thomas trusts me." And wasn't he the first. She should call him. The way they had left things that morning was less than ideal, and he hadn't deserved her overreaction, but Marcus' panic had set something off and all she had thought about was getting to Boston. To Harvey.

"Yeah well, maybe he shouldn't," he mumbled under his breath, regretting the statement instantly. If there was one person Thomas shouldn't trust, it was him. Not Donna. Never Donna.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she bit back.

"Nothing."

"No, no. You can't accuse me of something like that and expect me to just take the insult. Not all women cheat, Harvey. I would never cheat on my...I would never cheat."

"You can't even say it out loud, can you?"

"What?"

"That he's your husband."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on, Donna. I know you. You don't easily let people in, because you don't trust people any more than I do. So, eloping? After three months? That's not you."

"It's not? Well, I'm interested to hear what you think is more like me." Her brows came together in a defensive frown, startled by Harvey's accurate assessment of her. The fact he was right stung worse than she cared to admit. Everything with Thomas had been out of character for her, but Harvey was the last person she'd imagined calling her out on it. When the hell did he get so insightful? Perhaps she had underestimated his level of attentiveness. Apparently, working side by side for a decade-and-a-half meant he knew her better than she gave him credit for.

"Forget it." He swallowed another swig of his Scotch, burning away the wedge of defeat lodged in his throat.

Donna watched the anger rise and fall in his shoulders; the struggle visible for even a blind person to see. She also noticed the shift from angry to sad, when he took a strong breath to steady the turmoil that was no doubt boiling under a layer of heavy grief.

"You know, I almost lost everything because of you. And now..." He nursed a pained laugh, stealing a glance at her ring. _Scratch that almost_ , he thought, as an all too familiar feeling started to rise from deep within his core, humming just below the surface.

"Harvey…" Had he not forgiven her? Could she ever convey her remorse for what had happened?

"After the hearing, I was stupid enough to go to your place, thinking you might like to celebrate with me." The black memory flashed before his eyes and he tried to shake it off by shaking his head. The humming turned into a loud buzzing in his ears, but for now Donna seemed oblivious to his body's menacing unease.

Donna examined his expression, surprised at his revelation. He never dropped by without a reason, nor just to celebrate and she wrecked her brains trying to think why he would have done so. "You came over?"

"Never mind. It's late. I'm going to bed," he mumbled, the excuse unconvincing even to himself. But there was no way he would break down in front of her. Not like this. So, he pushed his chair back and stood up from the table as his frantic heartbeat joined the buzzing in his ears. Breathe, he told himself. _Just breathe_.

"Harvey, wait." Donna got up, too, halting him by placing her palm on his clammy arm as she met his sorrowful eyes, her own memory of that day still clear in her mind. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you at the hearing. I should have been there."

"Yeah, you should have," he whispered, reeling from a mix of anger, frustration and intense pain. A pain which only amplified under her scrutiny while her touch scorched his skin. The sensation was unbearable and needed to stop, but his heart was racing and a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead while an invisible fist slowly clenched around his airways.

As he felt another panic attack take his body hostage, he drowned in her compassionate eyes, the only sanctuary he'd ever known.

With zero control over his actions, he stepped forward and pressed his mouth against hers, tangling his hand in her hair to pull her even closer until she was trapped against his frame.

Peace came over him as he tasted her kiss and the paralyzing anxiety settled—like the relief of a cool drink on a hot summer's day. But too soon she was pushing against his chest, drawing him out of his heavenly refuge and propelling him head first into his agonizing existence.

The moment their lips disengaged, the ramifications of what he had so selfishly done crashed into his already wavering composure and he wanted to run or jump back in time to undo it. The look of utter horror on Donna's face didn't help either, and he withdrew himself out of her intoxicating orbit. "I'm so sorry," he stammered, before blinking a few times, trying to rearrange his thoughts, and realizing he had just made a huge mistake.

Shaking his head as he stumbled backwards, arms guarded, he gave her one last glance and walked away, not at all capable of dealing with another fallout between them.

Donna remained, shaken to her core, looking through the doorway at the stairs, but not really seeing anything.

She wanted to leave. She wanted to yell at him and tell him he had no right. She wanted to scream until her vocal cords shattered. Instead, she went upstairs to her room and laid on top of the covers of Haley Specter's twin bed, staring at the ceiling in the knowledge that on the other side of the wall, Harvey was likely doing the same thing. But facing him was out of the question. She had to process first, form some kind of reply or inquiry, because the force that made her Donna—the observer, the deductor, the oracle—was a hell of a lot harder to summon when looking in a mirror.

All she knew was when Harvey's lips had met hers, she had felt _something_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: Ok, so I lied. This is now a multi-chapter fic (now more than 4 chapters, though, I swear!). Please let me know what you think. I always love to hear your thoughts._
> 
> _As always a huge thank you to Cassie (Follow-ur-Shadow), Nina (saci) and the amazing Elle (mieh), without whom this fic never would have seen the light of day, or would have made sense. They are some of the best writers in the fandom and if you haven't done so, please go read their work!_
> 
> _You can also find me on Twitter as darvey__love (double underscore)._


	3. Part 3

···

**Something Blue**

_Part 3_

°•.•°

On Monday morning, Donna sat at the breakfast table, taking another sip of her coffee, and trusting the beverage to keep her functioning for a while after having spent the night tossing and turning.

"So, everything between you guys has been resolved?" Marcus asked, while pouring a serving of scrambled eggs on her plate.

"Yeah. I guess." _If you don't count the fact we kissed last night_ , she thought.

"See, I told you he'd come around," he replied, a hint of delight gleaming in his eyes. There had been a reason why, over the years, he'd called Donna whenever he _had_ to get a message to Harvey. She meant the world to his brother, and to know they had set aside their differences filled him with a sense of deep gratitude. Tomorrow was gonna be hard on everybody and the last thing anybody needed was resentment over life choices. Still, he had to admit knowing Harvey's chances with the lovable redhead were reduced to zero, stung just a tiny bit.

"So, does he ever come down for breakfast?" she queried, nibbling on a piece of toast as if the answer held no power over her. The thought of seeing Harvey was horrendously unnerving. Having spent all night mulling over their moment, she was no closer to any insight than she'd been when Harvey's lips had locked with hers.

"Sometimes. But I heard him leave early this morning, so who knows where he is," Marcus said absentmindedly, pretending to eat his own breakfast, although his appetite was still on the fringe.

Donna's heart skipped a beat. Harvey wasn't even in the house? She had dozed off before the sun had come up and must have missed him slipping out. Nevertheless, she bathed in the relief washing over her, his departure granting her additional processing time. So, she gratefully bit into a strip of bacon, hoping some daylight would illuminate her obscured conundrum.

Not having Harvey around to cast a cloud of confusion over her emotions, her thoughts drifted to Thomas. The way they had left things yesterday was less than ideal, and he hadn't deserved her knee-jerk reaction, but Marcus' call had set something off and she'd had but one goal: get to Boston. _To Harvey_. But there were six missed phone calls this morning and now she had to tell her husband another man had kissed her—the other man someone who had foiled their relationship from the start, and was currently causing her to question if she even loved the man she married.

If that didn't send him packing, she wasn't sure anything would.

Then again, she could also keep her mouth shut. She had given Rachel the same advice once, but if there was one thing her midnight ponderings had cleared up, it was that she'd been living a lie for the past few weeks. And continuing that effort would only end up hurting the people she cared so much about.

* * *

Across town, Harvey sat behind the wheel of his rental. The last several hours, he'd been haunting the spots that had made up his universe during the first twenty-something years of his life, reflecting on things gone by as his current world slowly collapsed into itself.

He had driven past his little league field, only to find the dirt paved over, and a large shopping mall towering in its place, burying the many moments he had shared with both his dad _and_ mom under a thick layer of concrete. Fortunately, the house he grew up in was still there, seemingly unchanged, as was the tree he and Marcus used to climb. The green leaves swayed on the wind, just as they had all those summers ago when his younger brother had ventured out on a branch to wave proudly at Harvey before losing his balance and falling victim to gravity. As Marcus had hit the grass below, he'd broken his arm, riddling Harvey with guilt for weeks—he was the older sibling; he was supposed to protect him. And he had failed. Years later his parents had gotten divorced and he'd let Marcus down again, leaving the teenager to deal with the fallout while he had fled the household altogether.

And after last night he could add Donna—the one person who meant most to him—to the list. Of all the shitty things he'd done in his life, messing with her marriage had gone straight to the goddamn top. Out of nowhere, he sympathized with Bobby, and the thought made him want to vomit. He wasn't _that_ guy. There was a reason he had never slept with a married woman before. And he sure as hell wasn't about to start now. But everything about the kiss had felt _right._ The touch of her lips was all he'd needed to quell the rising panic, and if she hadn't stopped him, he might have let them go too far, because his desire for her was undeniably strong.

But she wasn't his to crave.

A measure of shame flooded his consciousness. He would have to ask for her forgiveness—beg, if needed—even if that meant disclosing the hideous truth he was yet again suffering from panic attacks. Hell, he'd apologize to Thomas in a heartbeat, if that's what it took, because of all the ways he could lose her, him losing his shit would not be the one.

He reached for his phone and ignored the notifications that greeted him. Instead he scrolled through his photo gallery to pull up an image Marcus had sent him. In it, his mom was laughing, that low bellow he could conjure from memory if he closed his eyes. She looked so happy, carefree and he wished she was still around to talk to. As soon as the thought hit, a surge of sadness followed, devouring him until every last piece of his being screamed in agony. Even though the car was parked, Harvey gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned white, bracing himself as the tears washed over him.

When the worst of it passed, he pulled up his favorites list and tapped the worn-out number.

The answer was instant.

"I think I did something stupid, Mike."

* * *

As the sun rode high in the sky, Donna adjusted the brand-new pair of sunglasses on top of her nose, strolling along the Charles River. After a lengthy stop at the Museum of Fine Arts, she was ready for lunch and a quick Google search pointed her toward a café overlooking the water.

With Harvey vanishing, Marcus had assured her there was nothing for her to do around the house and she should take some time. He and Bobby would handle the last-minute arrangements for tomorrow's funeral and he'd call her if he needed her.

Donna had gladly accepted, welcoming the chance to explore an unknown city while trying to make sense of her life. She had tried to get Rachel on the phone earlier, desperate for some perspective, but when the call had been directed to voicemail, the disappointment hadn't lasted long, because, as she realized, she wasn't ready yet to hear what her friend had to say about her predicament. No, this situation was hers to sort out and hers alone.

As she sat down and ordered off the menu, she took out her phone and dialed Thomas' number. When her background changed to them on the beach, there was a disconnect between the image and the emotions associated with the memory, sending an unsettling ripple to course through her veins, like a distant rumble she couldn't see, although its impending doom was palpable from a mile away.

The call was cut off before it ever connected and she sent him a text apologizing for not getting in touch sooner but she was available to talk whenever he wanted to. Perhaps, if he took the lead, she could follow and figure out what to do next as the conversation went along. Similarly, talking to Harvey would be a way to uncover his intentions. Because the mixed messages he'd been sending, while juggling a range of emotions, had not helped to provide her with any insight into his reasoning whatsoever.

Why wasn't there a rulebook for these situations? How was she supposed to navigate this without hurting anyone, herself included? And with one best friend twenty-five hundred miles away and the other mourning the loss of his mom, she felt trapped in a maze, not knowing which way to turn and no exit signs in sight.

···

An hour later, Donna was back at the house and unlocked the door with the key Marcus had given her, leaving the set on the kitchen counter as she went in search of the younger Specter. The absence of Harvey's car in the driveway and with Marcus nowhere to be found, Donna allowed herself to succumb to the tiredness in her bones and she stifled a yawn walking up the stairs.

The moment her head hit the pillow, she felt herself fade, the exhaustion catching up with her at an unstoppable rate.

A loud knock on the door took her out of her slumber and she tried to get her bearings, grogginess making her dizzy as Marcus' voice traveled from the hall into his daughter's bedroom.

"Donna? There's somebody at the door for you."

"Coming," she yelled, with no real intention of getting up immediately, not until her brain and body got with the program. She swung her legs over the side, briefly wondering how long she'd been out. What time was it anyway? With a flap of her hand, she straightened her dress and combed her fingers through her hair, giving herself a quick glance in the full-length mirror before she stepped out into the hall to find Marcus waiting with a concerned look on his face.

"I think it's your husband…"

A flash of bright panic shot through her, waking her fully as if he'd poured a bucket of ice water over her head. "Are you sure it's him?"

"No, but I don't know any other men named 'Thomas' that would come looking for you here."

"Good point." _Shit!_ Never in a million years had she expected him to show up in person.

Mustering some clarity, she made her way downstairs, through the vestibule and out onto the porch where Thomas stood waiting, hunched forward with both hands on the railing. The summer heat collided with the chill running down her spine, leaving her conflicted and tense. She caught her eyes wandering to the still empty driveway the moment she stepped over the threshold, even though the piece of information did nothing to diminish her unease. If Harvey wasn't back yet, he could pull up any second and an interruption was the last thing she needed, but there was nowhere else to go.

When Thomas sensed her approach, he slowly turned around, discomfort holding his frame captive.

"Thomas, what are you doing here?" she asked apprehensively. She didn't have to be _Donna_ to know him showing up here foreshadowed trouble.

"Why didn't you answer my calls? You just packed up and left."

" I know. I'm sorry. I—" She stepped closer, ready to touch him and soothe her own nerves.

"I think I deserve more than an apology," he snarled.

Donna stopped her approach at the bitterness in his tone. "You do, Thomas," she agreed, "but the funeral is tomorrow. I'll be home the day after and we can talk about this. But not here."

"Why, because Harvey is here?"

"He's not, actually, but his brother is. They just lost their mom, Thomas," she explained, somewhat irked she had to.

"Something is wrong, Donna. I can tell. Ever since we got back, you've been different. And now you're here…"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm only here because Harvey needed me."

"Of course. You're a wonderful friend, and I sure hope he knows how lucky that makes him. But you're _my wife_ , Donna. And if I were to ask you to come home with me right now, would you?"

 _No! No! No! Please don't ask me to choose_ , she thought. He could ask her anything but that, because she couldn't lie. She wouldn't. "Thomas, please…" she pleaded, as storm clouds gathered overhead. Suddenly that distant rumble didn't seem so distant anymore.

He turned away from her, his massive body rising on a deep inhalation as if he was marshalling some valor. When he swung back around, his eyes were hesitant and his hands rested on his hips as he asked, point blank, "Do you love me?"

Donna blinked through wet lashes, overwhelmed by his vulnerability and the dawning realization she was about to crush his heart. "Thomas…"

"Tell me, Donna. I need to know." He paused. "I need to know if we made a mistake."

Donna shifted her weight nervously, the raw emotion from the past couple of days boiling to new heights as she looked into his pained eyes. Pained, because he already knew her answer. Her inability to love him, even though she had tried _so_ hard, was a shortcoming that would haunt her for a while to come. But after last night and with Thomas standing before her now, she knew where her heart lay. Thomas deserved better than what she had to offer. She cared enough to know that much, and in a hasty premonition flashing before her, she saw only one way this could go, and the impending failure of her marriage spilled the tears from her eyes.

Her lip quivered when she swallowed a sob and mumbled, "I'm so sorry, Thomas." She dropped her gaze as soon as the words left her lips, unable to witness the pain she'd caused.

Thomas' heart stopped as he stared at the woman he loved telling him she couldn't reciprocate the feeling, and a gush of insecurity slid up his spine. "Do you love _him_?"

She always had, but that wasn't what he was asking. "It's—

"—complicated. Yeah. I guess it is." He huffed warm air through his nose, shaking his head as the reality of his situation slowly sunk in. His voice wavered when he finally said, "Donna, I can't be married to someone hoping that someday she'll love me."

To see this strong, powerful man shrink in size, broke her heart in two. And when he was ready to turn his back, she stopped him by gripping his arm, tears now trickling down her face in a steady stream. "You have to know," she croaked, "you're the man I want to want." She lowered her gaze to his chest, his eyes still too painful to meet.

She didn't know why he pulled her into his body, but the next moment she sniffled softly into the fabric of his shirt. He eventually placed a kiss on her temple and when their gazes met, the redness in his eyes told her he'd been crying, too.

"I'll get everything in order," he said hoarsely. And with those words he turned away, never once looking back.

When she closed the door behind her a minute later, Donna headed straight for the stairs.

"You okay?" Marcus asked, walking into the hallway as he heard the front door close. "What did he want?"

"Nothing, it's fine," she said, wiping away her tears. "I'm just gonna go…" She motioned upstairs and smiled through tight lips.

Marcus watched her ascending form disappear and in spite of the pain this house currently detained, he had to chuckle, thinking the people he was sharing this experience with really were two peas in a pod.

···

The afternoon passed and as the sun was preparing for its set, Marcus texted his brother with the news Thomas had dropped by and wasn't at all surprised when Harvey burst through the front door a short while later.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. She hasn't been down yet. And where the hell have you been?"

Harvey studied his brother as an image of their dad flashed before his eyes in the way Marcus scolded him. "I just needed some air."

"Some air? You've been gone all day!"

"I know. Time just got away from me," he said, glancing at the clock on the wall and realizing it was already past six. After his talk with Mike, Harvey had driven around aimlessly, trying to get his emotions sorted. His friend had nudged him again with the idea of telling Donna how he felt, but he couldn't put her in that position, not while she wore another man's ring. He would apologize for the kiss, confess to his state of mind if he had to, but that was it.

As he took a seat at the kitchen island, the throbbing ache of mourning his mom took up most space in his heart, anyway. However, the news Thomas had shown up here muddled his made-up mind—especially since Donna was still here and Thomas, evidently, was not.

Following his brother's moving form, he asked, "Did you talk to him?"

"No, I didn't. Do you know him?" Marcus asked, pulling a couple of beers from the fridge.

"Yeah. I do. He's a client. And a good guy," he whispered as the cold glass hit his lips.

"You know, she was crying when he left. If I didn't know any better, I'd say there was trouble in paradise."

"Marcus." He warned his brother merely out of habit, torn in two about the possibility she and Thomas were no longer together and the chance he had been of influence. The thought laced him with guilt, remembering how he'd felt when Donna had kissed him when he was still with Paula. To put or be put in such a position was equally awful.

"All I'm saying is that she's here with you. Not at home with him. Didn't Paula break up with you over Donna?"

"Sort of. She definitely was threatened by my relationship with Donna."

"Do you love her?"

Harvey shook his head. "It doesn't matter. She's married."

Marcus took the reply as an affirmative answer. "You want my advice?"

"No—"

"Don't wait too long. You saw what happened with Mom. For some reason, Donna has stuck by you all this time. She cares about you or she wouldn't be here, and I see how you look at her. But she won't be around forever," Marcus mumbled, choking on the last words as he looked at his brother, cloaked in gloom.

Taking a sip of his beer to swallow the lump in his throat, Harvey wished his drink was something stronger and his brother was wrong.

"Anyway, I'm ordering food. You know what Donna likes?"

Harvey's eyes shot up, blindsided by the intimacy his brother's assumption held. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

"Most places deliver within forty-five minutes. Why don't we order, and you can go check on her?"

···

Donna was reapplying her make-up in the bathroom when there were three soft knocks on her door.

"Come in," she shouted, brushing mascara on her lashes, assuming a worried Marcus was coming to see how she was doing.

"It's me," Harvey announced, peeking into the room to find the place empty, when rustling from the adjacent space reached his ears.

Donna poked her head out of the doorway in the far corner, and simply stated, "I didn't know you were back."

She disappeared from sight again, leaving him with no clue as to what her mood was. "We ordered food. It'll be here soon," he said, holding onto the doorknob.

"Okay. I'll be right down."

Although her tone was dismissive, Harvey hovered near the door, unable to let go of his only escape, but not ready to use it yet. "Hey, you okay? I heard—"

"I'm fine, Harvey. I don't wanna get into it." Not right now. Not when she had barely gathered herself after a few hours of complete misery while he had been out doing God knows what.

"Donna. If you have to go—"

"I don't."

The brick wall he was running into weakened his courage, but if he didn't broach the subject now, he might not get the chance, so he cleared his throat of any hesitation and said, "Listen, about last night…" He left the door for the foot of the bed where he sat down on the small bench, waiting for her to finish.

As he waited, his eyes traveled over the many images of teenage boys plastered all over the walls. There was an abundance of pink in this room and the cheery setting did not match his mood. But then Donna materialized from the bathroom a few moments later, dressed in a cream, off-the-shoulder top and wide flowing, black pants, her hair falling over her bare shoulders giving her an ethereal glow that made him forget who he was.

"What about it?" she asked, crossing her arms as she stood in front of him. With her marriage down the drain, a part of her problems had resolved itself, but not before she had devastated a good man who had loved her. A red-hot rage simmered below the surface at her own failure. To feel less bad about herself, she needed answers. And she was damn well getting some.

"I never should have kissed you. You're with Thomas. And I'm sorry if I put you in an awkward position." Oh, how the tables had turned. "But I…eh…" He hung his head, unable to trust her with his truth. "This, everything, it's been a lot and I…" Forming complete sentences proved to be a challenge and he surrendered, leaning his arms on his legs, staring at the carpet.

"Are you having panic attacks again?" Donna asked.

His eyes shot up to hers, and he swallowed the denial teasing the tip of his tongue. "I had one a few days ago." Ah, hell. He might as well tell her. "And last night, I almost—"

"When you kissed me?"

"Yeah."

"So, I was a distraction to you?"

"No!" Maybe.

"Then why? Why did you kiss me?"

"Because!" _Because I'm an idiot_ , he thought. Admitting he'd done it because he had craved her touch, brought forward the insufferable shame of selfishness he wasn't ready to face. He wasn't the kind of man who just went around and kissed whoever he wanted, regardless of the consequences. He had more respect for women than that. And yet—

"Because what? Because you felt like it? Because you wanted to feel better?" She was spoiling for a fight, she recognized all the signs, but Thomas blindsiding her had rocked her foundation and she needed to get some reassurance that her pending divorce hadn't been pointless.

"Donna. You know I would never use you like that." Not intentionally, anyway.

She knew, but deflecting was so much easier than admitting the truth. Closing her eyes, she willed her anger away. "Thomas and I broke up, Harvey," she said, disengaging the shotgun she had placed at his head while hugging herself a little tighter.

Watching her sway awkwardly, not sure what to do with herself, Harvey got to his feet. "Donna, I'm sorry. I hope it wasn't because of—"

"What? Our kiss? The fact that you are a part of my life? Or my inability to love him?" All of the above, Your Honor.

"Wait. You didn't…You don't—"

"No, Harvey, I don't. Not like that. I thought I did. God knows, I really tried." In vain. Like the make-up she'd applied, assuming it wouldn't soon be running over her face.

Harvey chewed on the words. Her loss might be his gain and this time a sparkle of hope settled in his heart, making him feel like an asshole. "I'm really sorry, Donna."

For Christ's sake, not this game again. "No, you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, come on! You've been pissed for weeks because you couldn't handle me getting married. So, don't pretend you're sorry my marriage fell apart, okay."

"Fine. Maybe I'm not sorry your marriage ended. But I _am_ sorry you're upset. I never meant to—"

"You never mean to do anything, do you? Like how you probably didn't mean to kiss me last night. It just happened. Is that what it is?" That shotgun was locked and loaded once more as her guard went up.

Harvey only stared at her, annoyed she wouldn't give him the opportunity to explain. The last thing he wanted was to fight, but she was being irrational and that annoyed him even further. "What the hell is your problem?"

"You! I come all this way because your brother seemed to think you needed a friend, but you don't need anybody. You kiss me and disappear for a whole _goddamn_ day, because you'd rather be alone, anyway." The accusation escaped before she had a chance to catch herself, and she realized perhaps he wasn't the only one needing a friend right now. But their complicated relationship had once again gotten in the way of their friendship, and she was tired of being on the losing end.

The doorbell rang, and Marcus' voice carried through the air with the announcement their dinner had arrived.

Their gazes locked.

Seething with rage, Harvey swallowed the worst replies his ego came up with, his brother's interruption reducing the brunt of his rancor. But being pushed and not pushing back just wasn't in his nature. "I told you I was sorry, but I didn't ask you to come here and I'm not asking you to stay. You're free to do whatever the hell you want. You always do, anyway."

Without another word, Harvey left the room.

Donna watched him leave, her eyes dropping to the suitcase sitting by the door. Staying here had cost her her marriage. But if staying here would cost her her friendship with Harvey as well, it simply wasn't worth it.

···

Marcus looked between the people across the table from him, both picking at their plates, sulking. "I would ask who died, but that seems a bit too soon," he finally said, to no reaction. "Okay, what the hell is going on with you two?" Of all the things he thought he'd be doing on the eve of his mother's funeral, watching his brother and his brother's favorite person behave like children was pretty low on the list.

"Nothing," they replied in unison, and continued ignoring each other.

Every bite Donna swallowed felt like a renewed attempt to test her ability not to choke. Her relationship had fallen apart and she and Harvey were quarreling again. She still had no idea why he'd kissed her, because her own frustration had impeded his explanation. Tomorrow, they were burying his mom and since her arrival—aside from their moment yesterday—they hadn't even mentioned Lily's passing.

Not only had she failed as a wife, she had failed as a friend, and in the quiet of the kitchen, the burden grew unbearable.

"I'm sorry," she said, breaking the silence and startling both brothers who looked in her direction. But her eyes were on Harvey, whose gaze softened when he met her apologetic stare.

"It's okay. I'm sorry, too," he replied.

Marcus' gaze darted between them, wondering if they would ever get their heads out of their asses long enough to see what they were both missing out on.

···

After dinner, Donna declined the coffee Marcus offered, and instead excused herself, citing a raging headache for her early dismissal.

Her excuse wasn't a complete lie. The pounding in her brain had only gotten worse as dinner proceeded, the tension in her neck and shoulders tightening around her sorrow. But hours later, sleep escaped her again as she laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling with nothing but the moonlight creeping in through the curtains to keep her company.

Out in the hall, she heard footsteps approach, and her heart beat in her throat when they seemed to slow down outside of her room, but the pace continued and the door to the adjacent bedroom was drawn shut. She exhaled a captive breath and tuned into the shuffling and creaking of the floorboards until the sounds faded, drowned out by the quiet night.

Harvey was on the other side of the paper-thin wall, but he felt worlds away. For weeks, his absence in her world had been tough. But now she missed him so much, it hurt. And with Thomas leaving her, an unwanted vision of her lonesome bachelorette existence crashed into her consciousness. She didn't want to return to New York without Harvey in her life. Whatever the reason for his kiss was, she would not allow his lapse in judgment to affect their friendship. Besides, even if he had done it to distract himself, she could, _would_ , forgive him, knowing the grief he was experiencing was all-encompassing.

All at once, her apology at dinner no longer seemed sufficient, and she grabbed hold of her phone.

_I need you to know that whatever is happening in my life doesn't matter right now. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for you, Harvey._

_I know._

His curt reply eased her mind enough to call it a night. She was about to put her phone away when three little dots appeared and disappeared repeatedly for what felt like forever. She had almost given up expecting a follow-up, when a familiar beeping sounded, alerting her of an incoming message.

_I didn't kiss you just to feel better._

Reading the text, her heart started hammering in her chest, flustered by his comment and the only reaction she could think of.

_Then why?_

The dots did their thing again, and she knew he was likely struggling to find the words or courage. Or both.

Harvey stared at his typed explanation, _Because I wanted to,_ while hovering his thumb over the 'send' button as his brother's voice echoed around his brain. What else did he have to lose beside the chance at happiness, however foreign the concept might seem right now? Yeah. _Shit all_.

He pressed down and waited.

And waited some more, but no reply came, and he lost his nerve, too many emotions pulling his already exhausted soul in too many different directions. He wasn't ready for tomorrow and this conversation wasn't going anywhere. So, he typed another message and turned his phone off.

Donna wasn't sure how much time she'd spent staring at her screen, but it must have been a while, because her phone vibrated again.

_Goodnight, Donna._

In a haze, she sent, _Goodnight,_ and let her heart do a somersault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N:_ Bless you all for the amazing response to this little story. Reading your responses has been such a pleasure and I am forever grateful! This was only ever supposed to be a one-shot and I think the next chapter might be the last, but I really have no idea and will let this story lead me wherever it wants to go.
> 
> As always, this story wouldn't exist without me badgering my beta's with ideas and rewrites. Cassie, Nina and Elle, you girls are the best and I love you to pieces!


	4. Part 4

···

**Something Blue**

_Part 4_

°•.•°

The next morning, a heaviness was palpable throughout the house as Donna made her way into the kitchen to find Marcus making breakfast.

As she'd left her room, Harvey's shower had been running, and she wished she knew how he was feeling. She had been there when his dad had passed away, but this loss carried a different load, devastating him in a whole new way. At least she was semi-sure that after weeks of stormy weather their friendship had entered calmer waters, making it easy for her to support him—if he'd let her.

As Marcus poured her a fresh cup of coffee, he said, "Donna, I know you guys are going through something, but I want you to sit with the family, okay?"

"Marcus, no I couldn't." Donna knew the comment wasn't a cordial invitation, but Marcus' way of looking out for his brother. Still, the suggestion touched on a long-harbored desire to not only be viewed as Harvey's secretary, or friend, but instead be seen as something _more_ , and the impression took her off-guard.

"If you don't feel comfortable, I'll understand. But I know he wants you up there, even though he's too proud to ever admit it. And you _are_ family. Bobby is fine with it. Really, you're more than welcome to."

"Okay, Marcus. Thanks." She gave him a warm smile, then asked, "Hey, how are you holding up?"

"I'm alright. It's tough not having Katie around, although she's been an immense help with the kids," he said mournfully. "But it's been nice having Harvey here. And you, too."

"So, you and Katie, is that definitely over?"

"We still have to wait for the divorce to be finalized. I don't know. Sometimes I think she regrets her decision."

"You do? Would you want to reconcile?"

"I'd take her back in a heartbeat," he confessed.

A silence fell between them as Donna reflected on her own relationship status and said, "Listen, I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I had no idea Thomas would show up here. I never meant to add more drama. I'm sure that's the last thing you needed."

"Don't worry about it, Donna. Harvey told me what happened, though. I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"Thanks, Marcus."

"You know he loves you, right?"

"I know, and Thomas was, _is_ , a great guy, but I just couldn't love him back."

"I'm not talking about Thomas."

Donna blinked through her surprise, hoping he hadn't caught her heart skipping a beat. The physical reaction wasn't foreign to her. Anytime someone mentioned Harvey having feelings for her, her insides would do a little dance, but she'd undercut the joy by telling herself it was only wishful thinking on that person's part. As long as Harvey didn't profess his love for her, she wouldn't carry hope. She'd stopped doing that a long time ago. And Marcus' proclamation, however sincere, wasn't going to change her resolution, either.

But she couldn't shake that nagging voice telling her something was different this time.

Harvey had never kissed her before. Nor had he ever said he'd wanted to. Not since the DA's office. Furthermore, his reaction to her marriage had been off the charts. No banal half-truths about how happy he was for her, but unadulterated hurt instead. And a blurry notion struck her. What if Marcus was telling the truth?

Before she could formulate a response and inquire into his knowledge, heavy footfalls came down the stairs and Harvey strolled into the kitchen, clean-shaven, dressed in a black three-piece suit.

She hadn't seen him in his armor for days and the outfit stunned her.

He wasn't trying to look good; he just did, even with a dark cloud of gloom following him wherever he went.

Unfortunately, Marcus' claim didn't hold much significance as Harvey sat down without acknowledging her presence, planting himself across the table and flipping through the newspaper.

For a moment, the room was thick with grief, until the ringing of a phone pierced through the depressing density, reminding them of an ever-turning world outside these woeful walls.

When Marcus left to answer the call, Donna took the opportunity to study Harvey freely. From a distance, he could be mistaken for the best closer New York City had ever seen, getting ready for another day of slaying at the job. But upon closer inspection, his gray eyes and loose-fitting suit told a different story.

With both her parents still alive and well, she couldn't imagine what he was going through right now, and the fact she failed to fully empathize with him unsettled her further.

For her own sanity, she pushed her inner turmoil aside and focused on her friend.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah. You get some sleep?"

She had gotten more sleep than the night before—a solid three or four hours overall—but the remaining time had been spent planning her split from Thomas, and Harvey kissing her because _he'd wanted to_. Neither subjects she would discuss today, though. There would be plenty of room for that later, back in NYC. "A little. Not much. You?"

"Yeah, me neither," he rasped, before directing his attention to the paper again.

Rounding up his conversation, Marcus strolled back into the kitchen and announced they had another thirty minutes before they were to pick up Bobby and drive over to the funeral home.

Harvey had difficulty focusing. After reading the same paragraph for the third time and still not registering the words, he shoved the paper away from him, looking at the clock.

He just wanted to get the day over with. And sleep. For about a day or two, sick and tired of lying awake, staring at the ceiling, counting his regrets. Or if sleep wasn't an option, drinking himself into a stupor so he wouldn't have to _feel_ sounded pretty goddamn appealing, too _._

Every bone in his body ached, and now his stomach was in knots because of Donna's lack of a response to his confession about why he'd kissed her. Even with Thomas out of the way, she clearly didn't want him, forcing him to settle for her friendship. And he would, grateful she was here. But today of all days, with his resilience devastated, the idea they'd never be _more_ added a layer of loneliness he felt ill-equipped to bear.

His life had lost so much of its value, because what did any of his accomplishments mean knowing Lily wouldn't be there to share them with, and Donna would always be an arm's length away? Yeah, _fuck all_.

He prided himself for making it out of bed this morning, wishing tomorrow was here. But as he glanced at the clock again, he found the minutes ticked by like hours and tomorrow might never come.

···

The stop at Bobby's had been short and Harvey had joined Donna in the backseat of the station wagon. They'd barely spoken a word since leaving the house, the static of the radio or a nervous cough the only sounds in the car. But Bobby and Marcus apparently had more to discuss, so Harvey diverted his attention to the surrounding traffic.

His brother and his mom's husband—which technically made him his stepdad, even though he'd never admit it—had taken care of all arrangements and although he had offered to help, there had been little for him to do except feel like an outsider to their well-established relationship. But he'd made his peace with the situation. Water under the bridge, and all that.

Maybe someday he could forgive Bobby, too.

Glancing at Harvey, Donna noticed how his discomfort became harder to conceal, so she tried to get his attention, and whispered, "Hey." When his pale face and sunken eyes turned her way, her voice wavered when she spoke. "Marcus said I can sit with you. Is that okay?"

A tiny spark lit up his otherwise desolate eyes and he nodded. "Yeah."

The remainder of the ride was spent in grim silence with Donna itching to offer any kind of relief, especially as she watched him work his jaw in an attempt to avoid a full-on sob session while staring out the window. Before, she would have stopped herself, but as she peered through the windshield at the hearse up ahead, it dawned on her this might very well be the saddest day of his life, and she could no longer keep herself from reaching out and covering his hand with her own.

Biting his lip, Harvey exhaled a stuttering breath, looked at their hands and then at her. And surrendered to the tears.

···

As the funeral progressed and Harvey's speech approached, Donna noticed him fidgeting with the piece of paper in his hands, his leg bouncing up and down in distress. Having broken through the barrier of physical distance, she landed her palm on his knee, calming the movement instantly as she waited for his eyes to meet hers. When they did, she smiled, letting her fingers find his and feeling how they tangled with her own as if they'd done so a thousand times before. "It's gonna be okay," she offered.

Although the gesture seemed selfless, she found some consolation of her own as her life was once again falling to pieces. Just when she thought a version of happily ever after was within reach, she let it all slip through her fingers and the belief she would never have _it_ crushed her. But his fingers, linked through her own, grounded her while igniting a yearning she shelved swiftly. She wasn't ready yet to give in to the notion she craved his touch. Not unless she was sure the feeling was reciprocated.

As Marcus finished up and returned to his seat, Harvey drew every ounce of strength he could from Donna's comforting grip, before he had to get up and address the mourners. The note in his hand had words written in big, bold letters, convinced he couldn't trust himself to articulate any coherent thought while up here, and his mom deserved better than that.

Staring at the crowd, he loved the presence of so many of his coworkers, friends, and family, although he spoke mostly to Donna, finding her eyes like the horizon you're supposed to look at to keep from getting seasick. But the ground under his feet was unsteady and the waves were too big, submerging him until he couldn't breathe before his tribute was over.

All Donna could do was watch. During his eulogy, his eyes sought hers often, and she spotted him inhaling deeply every time. But then he lost his composure and his fight against the tears, and she had to keep herself from leaping out of her chair and wrapping her body around his frame, uncaring about what anybody thought, so long as she could carry part of his pain for him.

The minute he returned to his place next to her, his hand gripped hers fiercely in a white-knuckled clench and didn't let go until the ceremony was over.

* * *

Harvey watched the sky change its hues from orange to pink, his current position on a bench in Fan Pier Park providing him with a front-row seat. Some thirty feet away from him, Donna was on the phone—had been for the past ten minutes. He could only imagine who she was talking with and a knot tightened in his chest. Sure, she'd said it was over between her and Thomas, but he knew how crazy Kessler was about her. There was no way he would let her go so easily. He'd be a fool to. _God_. If Donna were his, he'd fight tooth and—

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips and he sat back against the wood, trying to focus on _anything_ else but the redhead up ahead and finding it impossible, because Donna had been by his side at every turn today.

During the wake at his mom's house, she had kept him fed and hydrated, checking in on him between her chats with various coworkers and people she had never met, _his family_ , blending in as if she belonged there while stealing glances from across the room. As expected, he'd been forced to utter the phrase _'we're just friends'_ until the words had lost its meaning, but he didn't care. She was there.

Afterwards, Donna had been the one to suggest they go for a ride. Just the two of them. Harvey had appreciated the distraction, ditching his suit for a t-shirt and some jeans, drained of any and all emotion and energy.

The reason for the get-together had been the worst imaginable, and yet the gathering hadn't been all bad. How weird that on this wreck of a day, he also found joy in talking to cousins and extended family, reconnecting with them as if something good could come from his mom's passing.

The contrast was too large to comprehend, similar to how Donna's angelic beauty in the afternoon sun seemed to lift him into another realm with her. Into a place where color lived, and joy resounded, where things weren't bleak or a mere shade of gray, but alive and animated—lining him with a tentative breeze of hope. Hope that someday the excruciating pain he was experiencing would just be a faint memory. That the person he couldn't imagine living without would still be by his side. As his friend. Or perhaps something more.

As she approached, he forced his focus into the present.

"That was Louis," she explained upon her return, tucking the phone in her purse. "He told me to tell you again how sorry he was for having to miss the funeral. And…" she paused, "he wants me back in the office tomorrow morning."

"Everything okay?"

"Yes. And no."

The unease she surrendered to was hard to ignore and he squared his shoulders against an invisible adversary. "What's wrong?"

Donna fidgeted with the hem of her skirt before she folded her hands in her lap. "Thomas has pulled his business."

She let the motive hang between them, but the news needed no elaboration. Kessler firing the firm meant their relationship was beyond repair. No wonder she'd been on the phone for a while. Knowing Louis, Donna would've had some explaining to do and he instantly felt bad for her. If she had stayed in New York, she would have been in less hot water, and yet here she was for no other reason than to support him.

He almost reached out. "I'm sorry, Donna." The regretful smile she gave him stung and he tried to lessen her discomfort. "I haven't thanked you for coming all the way here, but you know it means everything, right?" He figured his gratitude should at least convey her sacrifice hadn't been for nothing.

"I know," she smiled.

There was no mistaking the sincerity curving her lips upwards this time and it emboldened him—his defenses long gone, washed away with the pools of tears he'd shed and the realization he loved the woman sitting beside him, who, in coming here, had jeopardized her relationship. For him. "Donna. Why did you come here? You must have known, on some level, that it would cause friction? It always does."

Surprise hit her features and her shoulders tensed at the inquiry, but he didn't care. He was done hiding. And being angry and frustrated, and a million other things that kept him from going after what he wanted most. If Lily's death had taught him anything, it was to not deny your heart's desires. Life was simply too short.

Her eyes glossed over. "Maybe, subconsciously, I knew it would. And maybe I needed it to." And didn't that make her a coward with a capital 'c'. "But my best friend lost his mom and I wanted to be there for him."

All he did was stare at her. She'd never called him her _best friend_ before, let alone confess to willingly risk her relationship to be with him. Something stirred deep inside of him as his sense of hope gathered some merit. But he left it.

Once this was all over, he'd make sure to tell her that being friends, however close, was no longer what he wanted. Not now, though. Not when he needed to cope with his grief and she had a few documents to sign first. But relief settled in his bones at the thought she wasn't going anywhere. And if she was staying put, he had some room for toeing the line.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure," she replied, feeling her heartbeat accelerate at his inquiry, sensing there were more personal questions headed her way.

"Why did you marry Thomas?"

The question punched the pain around her heart, and she closed her eyes in a futile attempt to hold back tears, the failure of her decision hitting her like a ton of bricks, along with the diminishing desire to keep up the pretense she'd said 'I do' out of love. "Because I was tired of being alone. And I thought I was in love with him," she sighed. "I just wanted to have someone to plan a future with. And he was perfect in every way. Except…" There was only so much moisture she could keep at bay before her tears trickled down her cheeks.

She wiped frantically at her already tender skin when Harvey's soft voice eased the raging storm of despair she was drowning in.

"Hey, I get it," he said, while nudging her shoulder with his own, the explanation all too familiar as it inspired him to articulate a regret he'd been carrying. "And I'm sorry for how I reacted…" He paused briefly. "About you getting married. I was just afraid that…" he trailed off, unsure if he possessed the bravery to admit what a selfish bastard he had been.

"You'd lose me?" she added for him. Didn't he know by now she would be just as lost without him?

Harvey nodded, scared his vocal cords might fail him, and he doubted there would ever come a day he would be okay with _not_ having her in his life. He had dodged a major bullet, although the reason why escaped him and he wondered out loud, "Why couldn't you love him?" He caught her tensing up and instantly regretted his prying. "Nevermind. You don't have to answer that." Her explanation didn't matter, anyway. Fact was, she didn't.

Donna winced as the million-dollar question she'd been asking herself for a while slapped her in the face. She knew there had to be a major impediment to her loving Thomas, or any man for that matter, but it had taken a kiss from Harvey to encourage a careful analysis into a decade of disappointment to find her answer. "Because there's a part of me I've never been able to give to anyone," she confessed. "I've kept it tucked away for about...thirteen years, and nobody I've been serious with—

Her speech was cut off by Harvey's lightning fast move and before she knew what was happening, he had his mouth pressed firmly to hers, capturing her gasp, and moving his palm to cup her cheek.

Unlike their previous kiss, Harvey felt her reply, their lips grazing against each other, eliciting a hunger for more. So, he trailed his tongue over her bottom lip, asking to be allowed in.

When she welcomed him into her mouth, Harvey whimpered, overrun by too many emotions he couldn't place. _Thirteen years._ He was the reason she failed to love another man, and if that didn't tell him everything he needed to know, nothing would. So, he pulled his entire being into the kiss to communicate the feeling was mutual when suddenly, he noticed a wetness leave his eyes. The list of nameless emotions was long, but 'sad' was definitely not on it, so, why the hell was there moisture running down his face? Surprised and a little embarrassed, he broke their connection, needing to arrange his being.

The inch or two of space between them on the bench dissolved as Donna scooted closer, watching him fumbling to get a grip, just like she'd been doing all day, only now, everything was different. Now, instead of desolate, he felt light and craved the contact.

Donna watched him clasp his hands in his lap as another tear fell down his cheek. With the back of her fingers, she wiped it away for him, and clutched his arm while trying to find her voice. For the second time in as many days, he'd knocked the wind out of her, and she took a moment to settle her shaky breath. Although he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, he wasn't running from his choices. And neither was she.

"Because you wanted to?" she whispered with a smile, staring up at him.

He returned the expression. "God…I've been wanting to for a while," he said, wiping at another tear. _Joy_ , he thought. They were tears of joy. And he was good with those.

"Is that why you came to my door after your hearing?"

The future moment he had imagined going a thousand different ways was here, and although he had expected his body to go on high alert—screaming to run in the opposite direction like it always had—he recognized the urge to bolt was inexplicably absent. Above all, the warm eyes boring into his massaged the truth out of him. "I was pretty sure I was gonna lose everything at that hearing. But Robert took the fall and I was cleared. Everybody went home to their spouses and…"

"And what?" she asked softly, her own curiosity getting the better of her.

Harvey gripped the hand resting on his arm and held it between his own. "I realized you were the person I wanted to go home to." The memory of the night came flooding back, as well as the epiphany he'd had and the subsequent pain he had endured. His entire body hummed from having confessed the single most elemental truth of his being as he waited for her response.

Now she was the one struggling to keep her composure as his eyes met hers with a promise of tomorrow. Her gaze fell to the grass and the leaves looked greener somehow, when she asked, "What if I ask you to come to my door again?"

"Will you answer?"

Nodding quickly, she swallowed hard, her mind, body, and soul teetering on the edge of madness, wet lashes sticking together as she blinked rapidly to keep the moisture away. "Yeah. I will," she proclaimed, leaning in towards him.

"Then I'll knock again."

Parting his lips, Harvey edged closer until he felt her breath against his face and Donna closed the distance separating them, letting their lips meet in a gentle, unhurried kiss, transporting them to a world where only they existed.

Harvey eventually pulled back an inch and brought his palm up to her cheek where he brushed her radiant skin with his thumb. "Are you sure?"

Donna withdrew, their proximity making it impossible to meet his stare and when she did, all she witnessed was a mix of pure, genuine love laced with hope. "I've never been more sure of anything, Harvey."

The only reply he had was a kiss.

They broke apart and with his arm around Donna, he leaned back, feeling her nestle into his side as they overlooked the water together. Hands met against his chest and he kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent from her shampoo.

Minutes, hours, days passed as they sat closely, bodies melted into each other.

The sky was slowly turning darker and Donna glanced up at his face, searching for his gaze but finding something else. He looked worn, scars of battle visible in his features with the dusk accentuating the tiredness around his eyes. But he exuded a new glow. "You wanna tell me what that smile is about?"

"This was one of the worst days of my life. And yet, you've managed to make it not half-bad." He leaned forward and relished in the idea he got to kiss her now. Whenever he felt like it. So, his lips found hers again, pressing them together gently, lacking any urgency, just a soft, appreciative gesture that still succeeded to shake his entire world. "We should get back. It's getting late and I don't want Marcus to be alone."

"Of course," she said, watching him stand up and reach out his hand for her to take.

···

The driveway wasn't as empty as they'd expected it to be, with another car parked behind the station wagon. Harvey and Donna shared a brief look before walking inside, hands linked. As they wandered from the hallway into the kitchen, they caught a glimpse of Marcus locked in a passionate kiss with Katie.

Harvey cleared his throat as they approached, a fresh smile painted on his lips.

"Harvey! You're back," his brother gasped, stepping away from his ex-wife, who looked slightly disheveled and immediately attempted to fix her hair and straighten her outfit.

"Hey, Katie," Harvey said, his smile even broader now.

With her cheeks flushed, she just smiled in return.

Marcus watched the exchange and noted how Donna seemed to be glued to his brother's side. There was also something new in the way they looked at each other and his heart swelled. "Uhm, you guys want something to eat? Bobby made me take some food home. There are two casseroles in the fridge, as well as plenty of other leftovers."

"I'm fine, Marcus," Harvey said.

"Me too," Donna echoed.

"I think we're gonna call it a night," Harvey announced, looking at Donna.

A spark of electricity rippled through her body knowing they were going to go upstairs. Together. She forced herself to not venture beyond that idea for now. "Ah, yeah, I have to get up early," she stated, turning her attention to Marcus. "I have to be back in the office tomorrow."

"Oh, so I won't see you again?" he said, disappointment flooding his frame.

"I guess not."

"I'll bring her back," Harvey interjected, meeting Donna's surprised gaze, before adding, "soon."

Marcus looked between the pair. "Good. I'm glad. I can't tell you how grateful I am you came all this way, Donna."

"Always, Marcus. He's family," she said, looking at Harvey and letting go of his hand to approach his brother. "And so are you." With both arms extended, she added, "Thanks for letting me stay here."

Marcus readily stepped into the embrace of the tall redhead he'd come to love. "Anytime."

"I'm gonna head up," she declared, feeling the day catch up on her, even though she knew the night was only beginning. As she neared Harvey, their eyes met and she squeezed his arm tenderly, instilling some comfort she wasn't going far and would be waiting upstairs. "Goodnight, Katie," she added as a final goodbye and left the room.

The minute Donna was out of earshot, Marcus beamed. "You sonofabitch. You did it, didn't you? You told her how you feel?"

"I did," he grinned, unable to hide his delight. Okay, so maybe he hadn't told her _that_ exactly, but she got the gist and that was enough for now.

"And she's still here," he deadpanned.

"She is," Harvey retorted. "How about you guys?"

Marcus and Katie shared a look, silently deciding who would break the news. "We're gonna try again," Katie finally said, smiling at her not yet ex-husband.

"That's so great to hear! I couldn't be happier." He drew the man into a hug. "I love you. You too, Katie," he added and gathered her into the embrace. "Listen, I might go home tomorrow as well. I need to get back to work, but I don't want to leave you in a lurch. So, if you need me to stay, I will." Although how he'd manage without Donna here was beyond him. But still, he would never abandon his brother.

"That's okay. We've got it all covered. I'll miss you, though."

"I know. Me too. I'll see you in the morning."

···

When Harvey arrived upstairs, he saw Donna's door was ajar. He approached cautiously as a nervousness took hold, going by the assumption Donna was expecting him to seal the deal. And the tremendous mass of expectations was weighing him down, knowing he couldn't meet them. Not tonight.

Stepping into Haley's bedroom, he found Donna at the foot of the bed, shoes off, and jewelry gone, sporting the same exhausted look he no doubt wore himself.

"Hey," he breathed softly and watched how she got to her feet.

His hands gravitated to her waist as he pulled her in, burying his face in the crook of her neck while his arms wound around her tight. They fit so well together. They always had. So, he just held her.

"Harvey?"

Withdrawing from his hiding place, he kissed her once, twice, a dozen times, stalling for time before finally resting his forehead against hers, afraid their fragile state would shatter forever if he didn't consummate their new relationship. Except he couldn't. He would make love to her in every way imaginable, but he simply could not tonight. And so, he just stood there, suspended, unable to voice what was in his heart, all the while praying for a miracle.

His miracle read him like a book. "We don't have to. There's no rush." She sealed the statement with another kiss, as if to convince him, even though the relief was visible all over his face.

He touched their foreheads again and closed his eyes against her scrutiny while drawing courage from her nearness, but words were elusive, so he remained silent.

"What's going on?" she asked, placing her palms on a solid wall of muscle that housed a pounding heart.

"I just...I don't want to be alone tonight," he murmured as his conscience was stabbed with guilt. Could he ask this of her? He had already been selfish in so many ways. And it still wasn't enough. Because he needed her. Especially tonight.

The gentle admission tore at her heartstrings, his vulnerability bringing tears to her eyes. With both hands, she cupped his face and waited for him to look at her. "You won't be." A glimmer of elation shone in his expression as he pulled back enough to meet her gaze. "Why don't I get changed and I'll come to you. I mean, you do have the bigger bed," she teased lightly.

A tired smile made its way onto his lips and he nodded, dipping down again for another brush of his lips over hers. "Sure?" he asked, and she nodded. So, he nodded too, and then left the room.

···

Harvey took a quick shower, hoping to wash away some of the day's suffering, and finding it impossible to rid himself of the pain. But there was a novel sensation brightening the dark edges of his soul—the idea he might not end up alone, after all.

Too spent to analyze the feeling, he toweled off and rearranged the bed a little in a way he thought would make her more comfortable.

A moment later, Donna appeared in the doorway, wearing a forest green, satin slip dress exposing a whole lot of skin, and he briefly reconsidered his resolution not to have sex with her. Especially as he saw the sheepish smile she sported as she tentatively sauntered into his room.

In the space—merely illuminated by the bedside lamp on Harvey's side—Donna forced her eyes from his beautifully naked torso to drift around the guest room, and land on the queen bed stacked with pillows. The scent lingering from his shower permeated the air and she took a deep breath, letting her senses adjust to her surroundings.

When she closed the door behind her, the room somehow shrunk in size, shut off from the outside world.

Being alone with Harvey now carried a new load and she rubbed over her own arm to occupy her trembling hands.

Out of the blue, Harvey felt self-conscious. Perhaps he should have worn a t-shirt, but he never wore a shirt to bed in the summer, especially with someone sleeping next to him. "Sorry, eh, do you want me to—" he motioned to his closet.

"No, it's fine. It's not like I haven't seen you without your shirt before," she smiled, approaching the bed, and pulling back the comforter.

Unsure whether they were going straight to sleep or would chat some more, she didn't remove any of the pillows, but instead leaned against them, her upper body raised slightly and looking at him expectantly.

Before he lost himself staring at the sight before him—Donna waiting for him _in his bed_ —he climbed in with her and crawled over until he was flush against her. In one push, he looped an arm behind her back and rested his head on her chest, burying himself in her arms to finally capture a sense of serenity after weeks of agony. And when Donna started combing through his still damp hair, he knew he'd found heaven.

"Do you wanna talk?" she asked softly, adjusting to the half-naked weight pushing her into the mattress.

"No. I'm just really tired."

"I know, it's been a long day."

He didn't respond, so she continued playing with the strands of hair until they dried into soft blond locks, gliding through her fingers like silk.

Donna was waiting for the discomfort to kick in, for the awkwardness to become unbearable, but nothing happened. She was at ease, because for all the upheaval in her life, holding him in her arms felt _right_.

A lengthy silence filled the room, with nothing but their breaths between them.

With the funeral over, the initial shock of Lily's untimely death had faded, but the hard part was only beginning—adjusting to a life haunted by a major void. The thought was crushing and his voice was hoarse when he uttered, "I lost my mom."

Being well aware that without Lily's passing she might still be living a lie, Donna's mind eased a little at the notion something good could come from something so bad—like the knowledge that from now on, she'd be by Harvey's side to guide him through the darker times in a way only a true partner could. "I know. I'm so sorry, Harvey."

"I'm glad you're here," he said, shifting slightly.

"Me too."

Before he succumbed to the sleep nipping at his consciousness, Harvey raised his body to lie down beside her until they were face to face. Their legs tangled automatically when he moved in to taste her lips a final time on this godforsaken day, and to pinch himself he wasn't dreaming. For good measure, he left a kiss on the top of her nose, on her forehead, her cheek, and her chin. The smile she gave in return fueled the already burning embers of his love for her, removing all other concepts from his mind, except for one.

As he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, he whispered, "I love you," and felt her body still next to him, her fingertips ceasing their movement on his chest. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it before, but I do."

"That's okay," she said, with a hand coming to rest on his cheek. "I love you, too."

He could only gape, taking in every detail he forgot to memorize the last time they had shared a bed together all those years ago. And his broken heart slowly mended itself, one stitch at a time. Because she loved him, too.

There was no end to his intense stare and Donna was afraid that if she didn't break the spell he seemed to be under, he might be staring at her all night. "You okay?"

"Hmm. Yeah," he said a little dazed.

"We should get some sleep," she coaxed.

As Harvey leaned over to turn the light off, she reduced the mountain of pillows he had arranged for her and she shimmied under the duvet.

Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness and Harvey's palm found her body, his fingers splayed wide over her stomach.

"I just wanted you to be comfortable," he said, almost apologetically.

"I am," she replied to his hovering frame as his face descended and she tasted the minty flavor of toothpaste on his lips.

"Can I hold you?" he rasped, planting a kiss on her bare shoulder.

Donna turned to her side, and her heart leaped when he molded himself against her, legs entwined, arms wrapped around them snugly, his breath warm on her skin.

A few minutes later, his breathing evened out and Donna knew he was asleep, so she allowed herself to drift off as well, in the comfort of his embrace.

* * *

_A/N: Kudos to those who caught the Gilmore Girls quote in the previous part. I don't make a habit of stealing quotes, but for this story I couldn't help but draw the parallel to when Lorelai married Christopher._

_As someone who has beta'd several fics, I know how much time goes into the process and I want to, once again, point out I couldn't have done this without my awesome betas Cassie (Follow-ur-Shadow), Nina (saci) and Elle (mieh). The fact these amazing writers take time out of their day to read, correct and give feedback on my writing before I post it, is beyond amazing and I am forever grateful! Especially since I am not sure where to take this story next and I will be bugging them with all my crazy ideas._

_I love to hear your comments, so please leave a review or follow me on Instagram/Twitter as 'darvey_love' (double underscore) and to anyone who has already left a review, I love you!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Kudos to those who caught the Gilmore Girls quote in the previous part. I don't make a habit of stealing quotes, but for this story I couldn't help but draw the parallel to when Lorelai married Christopher.
> 
> As someone who has beta'd several fics, I know how much time goes into the process and I want to, once again, point out I couldn't have done this without my awesome betas Cassie (Follow-ur-Shadow), Nina (saci) and Elle (mieh). The fact these amazing writers take time out of their day to read, correct and give feedback on my writing before I post it, is beyond amazing and I am forever grateful! Especially since I am not sure where to take this story next and I will be bugging them with all my crazy ideas.
> 
> I love to hear your comments, so please leave a review or follow me on Instagram/Twitter as 'darvey__love' (double underscore) and to anyone who has already left a review, I love you!


	5. Part 5

···

**Something Blue**

_Part 5_

°•.•°

_"I don't want you to go," he whispered, hoping the statement would get lost in the noise of the airport. But she must have heard him and wasn't it just like her to catch the parts he wanted to keep hidden._

_"I know. And I would much rather stay here, but I've made this mess, so it's mine to clean up." She stepped closer, both hands coming to rest on his chest as she felt his palms on her waist, drawing her in. "But I'll be waiting for you."_

_"Promise?" he whispered._

_"Promise," she nodded, lifting her heels off the floor to meet his lips in a tender kiss._

_"I might be home tonight. I was going to stick around for Marcus, but it looks like he has company of his own."_

_"I would be so happy if he and Katie got back together. Marcus really is a sweetheart."_

_"Yeah, well... Too bad for you, he's taken."_

_"Too bad for him, so am I." Donna felt his eyes trail over her face in search of an answer he was afraid to ask the question to. So, she indulged him. "I'm yours, Harvey. Always have been."_

_This time when their lips met, desperation fused them together._

_Donna ultimately pulled back, knowing full well that if she didn't, she would never_ _make it into the office. "I really have to go."_

_"Let me know when you get in, okay?" he said, reluctantly loosening his hold._

_"I will." Slowly, Donna disentangled herself from his embrace, squeezing his palms for a second before she let go. Walking away, she couldn't help but glimpse over her shoulder to find him rooted to the spot, the boyish smile on his face making him look so young and raw, and as she caught a whiff of his cologne on her dress, she knew she was in trouble._

* * *

She could still smell his fragrance now, even though many hours had passed since they had parted. With the scent came the image of herself, wrapped in his arms, smoothing his unruly hair, because he hadn't put any product in it—the reason being her almost oversleeping and waking him from his peaceful slumber, fully dressed, to say there was a cab waiting downstairs to drive her to the airport. Harvey had protested and insisted he'd see her off, granting him about a minute to throw on a pair of jeans and shirt, leaving no time for extensive coiffing.

A soft smile painted her lips at the memory.

Harvey was already on his way home and would arrive in an hour. She wasn't sure where they were going to take it from here—his grief and her divorce forcing them into caution, and on her part, confusion.

Throughout the day, she'd grown increasingly torn about her situation. Being back in familiar surroundings had put things into perspective—perspective she had lacked in the heat of the moment called Boston.

Regardless of how she felt about Harvey—whom she loved without question—her bond with Thomas was solid, and although she didn't love him in a desired manner, she cared very deeply for him. Particularly when what they had was better than anything she'd experienced in a romantic relationship before. But she would throw it all away on the off-chance Harvey could be the man she needed him to be.

The small clock in the corner of her screen was getting close to seven and although she was convinced she'd sleep in her own apartment tonight, she still needed to make a stop at Thomas' condo to gather some of her things.

The thought alone tightened her chest.

As expected, her absence from the office had multiplied her workload, and for the rest of the week, she would be swamped from morning to night. Moving her belongings in one go would be impossible so she'd have to make arrangements for the weekend, not wishing to delay the inevitable, for her sake as much as Thomas'.

* * *

Thomas was staring at his laptop screen, the words 'divorce proceedings' burning his eyes. The hour had been late when he'd gotten back to the city yesterday and he had been out with clients all day today, so he hadn't found the time to set his legal split from Donna in motion.

Or so he told himself.

Because his entire being howled at him not to go through with the separation—to find a way to mend their relationship and somehow start over.

The front door opened, and his heart rate increased. Quickly closing the computer, he left the device on the table and waited for her form to appear in the living room.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hi. I'm just here to pick up some things and then I'll get out of your way," she said, motioning towards the bedroom.

"Donna, wait. Can we talk?"

She let her eyes travel over his features for a moment, gauging his intent while simultaneously searching for her own bravery to face the man she'd hurt in the worst way possible. "Sure, Thomas," she relented, and took a seat next to him on the couch.

"I've been thinking," he stammered, rubbing his hand together nervously. "I don't want to file for divorce."

"Thomas…"

"I mean it, Donna. I don't want to lose you."

Hoping he wouldn't notice the absence of a wedding ring on her finger, she folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. "I thought you couldn't be with someone who didn't love you," she mumbled.

Hearing his words thrown back at him was a slap in the face, and his heart recoiled at the reminder. "I know I said that, but I also know we were in love. Maybe getting married wasn't the best idea, but we have something really great here." As he spoke, he let his hand cover hers and found she didn't deny his touch. "Please, Donna. All I ask for is a second chance."

Feeling suffocated by his nearness, Donna got up and moved over to the window, letting his plea ring around her heart. Why had she thought he'd make things easy for her? Apparently, she had grossly misjudged him. Just like how he'd surprised her before.

"I must say, I never pegged you for the jealous kind."

"I'm not," he replied, leaving the sofa to move closer to his wife.

Sensing his approach, she turned to face him. "Then why did you come to Boston?"

"Because I had a feeling something was wrong." The torment in his eyes lit up and he reached for her hands again. "And I was right. But I was hurting when I said that."

Inch by inch, he pulled her closer and Donna let him, until his massive arms wrapped around her body and his lips captured hers.

Feeling his kiss—the way her figure always seemed to shrink in size whenever he held her—called to mind a plethora of memories of a carefree time with palm trees and Blue Hawaii cocktails she suddenly longed for, and she pulled back in panic. "Thomas, don't."

He looked at her quizzically, having felt her response, then exhaled exhaustedly. "Do you love him, Donna?"

"I do," she replied without thinking.

"But are you _in love_ with him?"

Donna's brows furrowed together; the question posed one she hadn't been ready to consider until now. As she munched over her reply, she turned away from him, holding herself as she stared at the Manhattan skyline.

The answer should be obvious, yet clearly wasn't. She loved Harvey and _had_ loved him, for longer than she could remember. He was a part of her, as much as her beating heart was—essential to her being and hollow without it. But although she knew she wanted to be with Harvey, the doubt which had riddled her soul ever since she returned to the city, became impossible to ignore.

If she wasn't in love with him now, what was to say their romance wouldn't end like her relationship with Thomas had?

Torn apart, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"See, the fact you can't even answer yes to that tells me we can get past this. Together," Thomas said, moving his hands to her waist, but she eluded his grasp by stepping backwards.

"I'm gonna pack my things. I just need to…" She wasn't sure what she needed to do, but getting away from this conversation was on top of her list.

This time, Thomas let her go. Pushing her would be useless. She still had to _want to_ be with him and that was something he could never force on her. However, as long as she'd let him, he'd coax her into a reconciliation like his life depended on it. He wasn't a man who gave up easily. If he did, he never would have made it this far in the world.

So, when Donna emerged from their bedroom a while later with a suitcase packed, he held open the door for her.

"I'll come by this weekend for the rest," she mumbled, unable to meet his eyes.

"Donna. Please, just consider what I've said, okay?"

She gave him a faint smile. "I will."

* * *

With eager fingers and his heartbeat in his throat, Harvey composed his text and hit 'send'.

_Hey, just got back. I'm home now if you want to drop by or I could come to your place?_

All day long, he'd been yearning to see Donna again. Their hasty farewell had not been how he had envisioned their first morning waking up next to each other would go, yet he had complete faith their future was about to be filled with many more mornings together. Because she loved him, and wanted to be with him.

" _I'm yours, Harvey. Always have been."_ The words had kept him on his feet throughout the day. The knowledge she was waiting for him at home had made saying goodbye to Marcus and leaving his grieving brother to his own devices surprisingly bearable.

His phone buzzed and he excitedly read her message.

_Is it okay if we meet tomorrow? I'm really tired. Sorry. x_

His hopeful enthusiasm dissolved, and immediately red flags went up at the dismissal, causing his broken down fences to click into place around his heart.

Reading her reply again, Harvey hit the profile icon and then her phone number, but he was directed to her voicemail after only two rings, meaning she had declined the call.

"Goddammit," he cursed. The only reason she'd refuse to see him was if she had doubts about them being together and his unease climbed. Something was definitely wrong, and she would damn well explain what it was. The idea of Donna changing her mind drove him to hail the first available cab and make his way to apartment 206.

···

The hesitation between knock two and three combined with the vigor of knock four and five revealed who was on the other side of the door before she ever answered. Donna sighed heavily, annoyed he had ignored her request, even though a tiny part of her jumped for joy, but she overlooked the sensation, needing a clear vision, not a rose-colored one.

"Harvey."

The minute their eyes met, he felt a spark of delight settle in his soul, forgetting momentarily why he'd shown up in the first place, but he quickly recovered. She had some explaining to do. Or reassuring. _Whatever_. "Can I come in?"

"Ehm, sure." Although seeing him relaxed something deep within her, Donna took a hesitant step back, certain he was about to bombard her with questions she was in no mood to answer.

"What's going on, Donna?"

 _And we're off,_ she thought, following him into the living room. "Nothing."

"Don't lie to me," he warned.

"It's just…I—I saw Thomas tonight, okay. I had to go over there to get some clothes. That's all." No need to explain how Thomas had changed his mind, because being honest might force Harvey into a position where he'd have to fight for her and that was a risk she wasn't willing to take.

"And? What happened? Did you tell him about us?"

"No!" The denial slipped out too loudly, and she caught his bewildered gaze. Was there a 'them' already? Sure, she'd declared she wanted to be with him, but did that mean right away? God, they certainly had a lot to figure out still. "We didn't talk much. I just packed up a suitcase and left," she lied. "But like I said, I'm really tired."

"You want me to leave?"

"I'm sorry, Harvey, but I do." She needed time to think, especially when being in the vicinity of either man clearly muddied her emotions further.

"When are you gonna tell him?"

"I don't know. Because whatever is going on between you and me, someone I care deeply about got hurt because of it." The notion her own blindness regarding her feelings had been the cause, angered her thoroughly. How could she have been so selfish? So irresponsible to get married spontaneously? Only to profess her love for another man, which had potentially far more devastating consequences.

She cursed under her breath, her fists clenched, desperate to clear her head.

"You are gonna tell him, right?" Harvey said, staring at her unmoving form. Because if she didn't, they would basically be having an affair and he'd never, ever, agree to such a thing, even with Donna—even if that meant letting her go. "Donna, you have to tell him. I told you I loved you and as I recall, you told me the same. And you also told me you _don't_ love him."

 _Fuck._ "I know I did," she said, frustration boiling to the surface. "But you telling me you love me isn't exactly a one-way ticket to a happily ever after."

Harvey just looked at her, defeated.

 _Dammit._ "Harvey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"No, it's okay," he growled, grinding his molars. "You don't trust I meant it, is that it?" He scoffed, hit with a flashback to the time after the Liberty Rail case when he had told her the same thing, despite the fact he'd lacked the balls to tell her how. "You know what? I probably deserve that. But I'm not the same person anymore, and I thought you knew that." _Goddammit_. He knew who he was. He knew his faults—had faced them head on—and was ready to be _with her_. So goddamn ready. Only to have his history of failed relationships thrown in his face. Well, he wasn't the only one. "Your track record isn't exactly stellar, Donna."

"I know," she whispered, yet she doubted he'd heard her, because the front door slammed into place, the sound ricocheting around her empty apartment.

···

By the time he got home, his anxiety had reached a point of no return, so he let the avalanche of hell bury him, because it would be over quicker than resisting the onslaught. While he spiraled, his breathing labored and then his throat constricted, and he felt he might suffocate. For a brief moment, he wished he would, which only fueled his panic into new depths and he slumped against the front door, overtaken by paralyzing fear.

_She'd lied to him._

All that bullshit about waiting for him tonight, and being his, thirteen years… All a big lie to pacify him in his grief or whatever shitty reason she'd had at the time. Just like she had told Thomas she would spend the rest of her life with him, only to change her mind a few weeks later.

All he'd wanted from the moment he had stepped off the plane was to be in her arms again, but as she'd stood across the room—once again out of his reach—he'd felt an ominous hum sizzle under his skin, incited by an all too familiar fear she was about to abandon him. Again.

So, he had turned on his heel, and gotten the hell out of there as fast as he could.

Now, somewhere in the world where utter dread wasn't making his ears ring, he could detect three faint knocks on the wood he leaned against. Although he had no wish to deal with who was standing on the other side, he still managed to raise himself on shaky legs.

He didn't even care if she saw him like this. She might as well see the damage she'd done.

As he moved, the air felt cool on his face, the thin layer of cold sweat enough to make him shiver. The panic attack was only just reaching its peak, so with a trembling hand he pulled down the handle.

He never looked at her, merely flung open the door and shuffled into the dark apartment.

The lack of illumination disconcerted her, and she followed his retreating form. "You just left," she said to his back, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"Not now, Donna," he muttered as he slumped into one of the kitchen stools.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just don't feel very well," he groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"Harvey, what's wrong?" The darkness impaired her measurement of his features, but she didn't need light to inform her something was seriously off.

"It's…fine. I'll be fine." He was so _goddamn_ fine, he was about to throw up from it as he reached for the tie he wasn't wearing, hoping to loosen the suffocating rope preventing air from filling up his oxygen-deprived lungs.

Donna scanned his gray face housing frightened eyes, and reality hit her like a freight train. So, she made her way to the sink and filled up a glass of water, glancing behind her to keep a close watch on his frame, which she could now tell was shaking ever so slightly.

Rounding the island, she sat beside him. "Here," she said, offering him the glass, and placing her palm on his forearm where she found the skin too cold for her liking.

Harvey gulped down the drink, but the liquid did nothing to ease his discomfort. Like how having her scrutinize him had a similar effect. _So much for showing her_ , he thought. "Please go. I'm going to bed." The desire to curl into himself and hide away from the world was damn near overwhelming.

"Harvey—"

"I can't. Just…leave. I'll see you tomorrow." Without another look, he got up and made his way towards his bedroom, leaving a stunned Donna in the dark.

···

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, contemplating her next move, weighing his wish to be alone against his need for comfort and thought, _screw it_.

Thomas may have put some doubts in her mind, but the sweet smile Harvey had tried to suppress when he'd stood outside her door, had given her more answers than she would ever require. Because witnessing him willing to fight for what they'd started was everything she'd yearned for and never thought would happen. But then he'd pushed her, and she had acted on impulse; pushing back until she drove him away.

The moment he had left her apartment, she'd grabbed her things and followed him. And if he hadn't gone straight home, she would have waited for his return.

Because she knew by now her heart belonged to him.

Leaving her shoes where she stood, she ditched her purse on the counter and walked over to his unlit bedroom. The light spilling in from the city around them allowed her to make out his hunched over form as he sat on his bed, face again buried in his hands.

He must not have heard her because he didn't acknowledge her presence—even when she stood before him—until she sank onto her knees, clasping her hands to encompass his, forcing his gaze on her.

"Hey. What can I do?" she whispered.

"Nothing. These things pass," he said, not at all bothered she was still there, which eased her mind into taking a breather.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, placing her chin on their hands, peering up at him.

Even though his body was reeling, looking into her eyes and sinking in their depths softened the edges of the terror he was suffering, and the noose around his neck slowly untangled itself until his lungs could expand gratefully.

Donna noticed the release in tension, the change clear as day, and she smiled before she got back to her feet and sashayed away.

"What are you doing?" he asked a moment later, watching her rummaging through his drawer cabinet.

"Looking for something to wear," she deadpanned, exclaiming proudly when she found a stack of t-shirts with big blue lettering on the front. She pulled one out and said, "Give me five minutes, okay?" before jogging into the living room to retrieve her purse and then disappearing into the bathroom with her gatherings.

Harvey smiled, feeling his shivers morph into thrills at the thought she would be spending another night next to him—instead of deserting him. His body settled, too, as his heartbeat returned to normal and his breathing didn't seem to require any extra effort anymore. So, he stripped down to his underwear and was about to knock on the door when she swung it open, make-up gone, hair up, asking where he kept his toothbrushes.

Stepping in beside her, he gave her a fresh one and they both brushed their teeth in silence, sneaking glances at each other through the mirror.

The whole two-minute rule was forgotten because every second felt like an eternity, so when Harvey rinsed his mouth after the quickest teeth brushing session known to man, Donna followed his lead.

From behind her, he handed her a towel, their gazes now glued to each other.

Even though she wore his shirt, her scent still teased his nostrils and he nuzzled her exposed neck, his arms wrapping around her front, and he finally took a full breath as the last bits of adrenaline left his haunted body. "I could get used to this," he murmured against her skin then rested his chin on her shoulder, looking at their reflection in the mirror as he gently swayed them back and forth. "Thank you for staying."

"Always," she said, taking in the snug image before her. "We look good together."

Harvey agreed with a smile. "We do. I like you wearing my shirt."

"Thanks. It's mine now," she claimed.

Turning in his arms, she pulled him in for a kiss which started out gently—a soft acknowledgement of her contentment, laced with enough power she hoped would convey her intent to be _his_. Her plan must have worked, because the kiss rapidly became heated as his tongue teased her lips, and she opened her mouth to him, gulping in a breath of air at the same time.

She let him push her into the sink, surprised by his passion, as well as turned on by it.

Soon after, his lips left her mouth and started a path of sloppy kisses down her jaw until he reached her neck, sucking on her surface until she moaned softly. She felt his hands slide under the shirt she'd chosen and grip her body fiercely, digging into her skin like he was afraid she would run.

Harvey felt his arousal growing, the remnants of his panic attack nothing but a dull echo in his consciousness. She had somehow managed to extinguish his pain—again—and he'd gladly thank her for the effort, if she'd let him. As fate would have it, she whimpered in his ear from what he was doing, fueling his fire. So, he reached down with both hands to grab her thighs then lifted her up in one smooth motion.

Donna yelped the moment her feet left the ground, and she held on as tight she could until her body was lowered onto his bed a few moments later and she finally met his questioning gaze.

"Feel better?" she asked, beaming up at him.

"Hmm, much," he said, dipping down to caress her lips with his own, before meeting her eyes again in a silent plea.

Grazing her palm along his cheek, she whispered and nodded, "I want to."

Harvey didn't waste another second and crashed his mouth into hers, as a rush of desire flamed the fire of his love for her until she writhed underneath him, begging for that hallowed connection. Within seconds he had her naked and pinned under him, their gazes locked with a thousand unspoken words as he smoothly entered her and everything around him faded away.

As Harvey languidly made love to her, Donna fought the urge to cry. Their physical union was nothing like the first time he'd been inside of her. But then again, they were different people, too. A decade-and-a-half of heartbreak and loneliness was bound to leave a mark, making her appreciate the significance of the moment, unlike two kids who had mostly been in it for the fun, careless—reckless even—about their future, carrying a naivety about the consequences.

Not this time. No, this time, _everything_ was at stake. Everything would be different. Everything would be like fate had intended.

Flashes of a younger version of Harvey Specter danced before her closed eyes, images she'd entertained from time to time over the years, but they didn't hold a candle to how he looked at her now. There was no pride over his conquest nor an eagerness to show off his skills. All she found in his gaze was love, and the ferociousness of the blaze was more than she could handle. To ground herself, she dug her nails into his skin when he changed their angle and surrendered to him wholly.

Harvey marveled at the beauty undulating beneath him, her body exactly like he remembered, although she was even more perfect now—knowing she was _his_ , and the realization almost tipped him over the edge. So, he lifted her legs, pushing at her knee pit to dive into her full depth, needing her with him when he exploded.

The move had its intended effect when soon after, her walls started to shudder around him and he let go, letting himself be taken into outer space as she clung to his crushing weight, on her own expedition into oblivion.

When the world stopped spinning and her vision returned to normal, Donna curled herself into his embrace, savoring his grip as he trapped her against his solid chest, and she felt his heart drum under her fingertips.

"I'm sorry you had a panic attack. I never meant to—"

"Hey, it's not your fault," he interrupted. Okay, maybe she had set it off, but only he was responsible for how his body and mind reacted—however irrationally—not her. Still, her guilt motivated him to get his issues under control once and for all, so he made a mental note to call for an appointment with Dr. Lipschitz in the morning.

"It's just… This whole situation is not exactly how I imagined us getting together would go."

"Yeah, me neither," he muttered.

Focusing her gaze on his chest, she traced the ridges of his pecs. "I'm gonna need some time to sort things out with Thomas. Can you give me that?" she asked, looking up at him.

He nodded solemnly. "I don't know what he said to you tonight, but please don't doubt…me. I want this. I want you. I want _us_."

"I know you do. I want us, too," she echoed, pressing her lips to his skin and snuggling even closer until she gradually drifted off to sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

* * *

The next morning, Donna shut the front door of Harvey's condo behind her, needing to get home and change before she headed into work.

With her purse in one hand and his shirt in the other, she stepped into the elevator and as soon as the doors closed, she brought the cloth up to her nose and inhaled deeply.

A mix of sandalwood and unnamed spices flooded her senses, triggering an array of images that lifted a smile onto her lips and unleashed a kaleidoscope of butterflies in her belly.

 _Harvey._ Open and available, and hers to love freely. Sure, they still had a hazy road ahead, but there was nothing holding them back anymore. No rules created out of fear or ghosts of past trauma standing in their way. Just them, in love.

She had waited for him, not knowing if there would come a day they'd make it here, yet now that they had, she knew he had been worth the wait.

So, Donna floated on cloud nine the entire morning, rolling through file after file, dancing from one meeting to the next.

The two times Harvey had passed by her office, their eyes had met, and they'd both had sported grins like idiots—waiting for night to come when they could get lost in each other's arms once more.

Lunchtime was approaching and she was about to see if Harvey was available, when Thomas strode into her office, carrying a bouquet of the most exquisite flowers she'd ever seen.

"Hey, gorgeous! Just wanted to drop by and give you these," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world as he dipped down to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

Donna stared at him, flabbergasted and struck by his striking appearance. Was he wearing her favorite suit? He was evidently putting in an effort, and she applauded him not concealing his intentions, no matter how hard she was about to crush him. Because her entire world had changed after she'd left his condo last night, but he was understandably under the impression he still had a chance with her.

As reality came knocking, the cloud she'd been on evaporated, and she stumbled onto earth, barely catching herself as panic settled in her bones.

"I thought I'd take you to lunch. Are you free?" he asked, arranging the vase on her windowsill before sitting back on her desk.

"Thomas, we need to talk," she said, getting up to close the glass door, but not before glancing down the hallway nervously. Relief punctured her worries at the absence of a certain name partner, and she walked back over to her soon-to-be-ex-husband, every step adding an increased weight as she steeled herself for the conversation to come. "I don't know how to say this…"

"Just tell me," he uttered, a feeling of dread crawling up his spine. From the way she bit her lip and shuffled her feet, he could see she was anxious, and her restlessness only unsettled him further.

"Last night you asked me if I was in love with Harvey. And I couldn't answer you then, but I can now... Because I am." She took a moment to observe his reaction, however his face remained stoic, so she continued. "This whole situation has been quite confusing, and you have to know I never meant to lie to you or lead you on," she said, swallowing past a forming lump in her throat. No need to tell him about the fact her infatuation with him had only temporarily overshadowed her love for Harvey, long enough for her to believe it was no longer there. But now the skies had cleared, and she needed sunglasses to keep from being burnt by its brightness, and unfortunately that entailed Thomas getting burned too, only in a far less pleasant way.

Thomas chewed on her admission but refused to recognize he could have been so wrong, so blind. People fell in and out of love all the time. That didn't mean he was out of the running. Not unless—

"Did you sleep with him?"

"Thomas…"

"Answer me, Donna. Did you sleep with him?"

"I did." No sooner than the words had left her lips, did she watch his expression change from unreadable to crushed and he stepped back from her, shaking his head.

"When?"

"Last night."

"I see."

"Thomas, you have to believe me, I never meant to hurt you," she said, her voice breaking as the pain she'd caused was on full display before her, bringing tears to her eyes.

"Yeah, well. Too late for that." He was about to walk out when Harvey walked in, talking to someone in the hall and therefore oblivious to his presence.

"Oh… I'm sorry," he stuttered when his gaze fell upon Thomas, and he squared his shoulders on instinct, ready for battle. But as he looked between the two obviously distraught people, he realized he didn't need to insert himself into this conflict. "I can come back later."

He was about to leave when Thomas approached him and said, "Stay. I'm leaving." When he thought Donna was out of earshot, he whispered under his breath, "You won, Harvey. Treat her right."

Harvey stepped further into her office, confusion swirling around his brain as he glanced at the flowers and then at Donna, who looked like she had just seen a ghost. He could tell she was on the brink of crying and closed the distance with a few determined strides.

"You okay?" he said, clutching her shoulders in an effort to reinforce his presence when she wouldn't meet his eyes.

She shook her head as tears started to trickle down, so he wrapped her in his arms and let her sob quietly in his embrace. "Shh, it'll be okay," he cooed, stroking her hair.

Eventually, her crying subsided and he got a glimpse of her mascara-stained face.

Seeing her cry always wrenched his heart, but at least this time he could bend down and kiss her and hopefully make everything all better. So he did.

Donna welcomed the contact, until she realized where they were, and she broke the connection abruptly. "What are you doing?"

"What?" he asked, confused.

"We're at the office," she replied, looking through the glass to see if anybody had seen them and finding the hallway empty.

"So?"

"So? Don't you think we should keep things under wraps for a while?"

"Why?"

Donna just stared at him. And didn't have an immediate answer, even though she knew there was one.

"You kissed me right there, not too long ago, remember?" he said, pointing to the spot where she'd blindsided him one night, turning his world upside down.

"Oh, I remember."

He drew her closer and lowered his voice. "I don't want to hide, Donna. I'm done hiding," he declared, wiping the moisture from her cheek. "Unless it makes you uncomfortable. I mean, I get that you're technically still married. Maybe it's best if we only make out in the file room for a while," he added with a smirk.

A smile appeared on her face and he smiled with her, glad to see her sorrow retreat before his eyes.

"I do want to wait. Just a little while, okay?" She watched how he nodded cheerlessly, which only showed how _all in_ he really was, and her heart overran with delusional love. "Let me go refresh myself and you can take me out to lunch. How does that sound?" she said, lacing her fingers with his.

"I'd love to," he smiled, fighting the urge to kiss her again. However, she was right. Her image had always been important to her and he would never jeopardize hurting it. Besides, he'd told her he would give her time, and this was part of that deal. Simply knowing she had chosen him was enough to crush any doubts circling his mind.

That night, as Donna laid back in Harvey's arms, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, she whispered, "We finally made it."

Smiling softly, Harvey placed a kiss on her temple. "We sure did."

_THE END_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Big thank you for reading this story! I'd love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> As always a big thank you to my beta's for kicking my ass and making me a better writer. Cassie, Nina and Elle, I am forever grateful for your feedback and being awesome human beings in general!
> 
> Now on to the next story. These are crazy times. Please remember to practise love and compassion in everything you do. ❤❤❤


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